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THE AMERICAN HISTORY
STORY-BOOK
THE NIZVJ YOi^
PUBLIC LIBRA n'
ASTCR, LCN'O-r AND
TILDLN FOUNOATlOWg.
YOUNG CAPTAIN GRANDPRE, SWORD IN HANI), FACED
THE DRAGOON
Frontispiece. Sec Page iiy.
The American History
Story- Book
By
ALBERT F. BLAISDELL
AND
FRANCIS K. BALL
Authors of " Hero Stories from American History," etc.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
FRANK T. MERRILL
Boston
Little, Brown, and Company
1911
FLIE
AS-J
TILf?
c
Copyright, 1911,
Bv Little, Brown, and Company.
All rights reserved
Published, September, 1911
5Pr(ntet«
J. PARKHILL & Co., BOSTON, U.S.A.
PREFACE
This little book is designed to be used as
a supplementary historical reader for the
fourth and fifth grades of our public schools,
or for other young persons from ten to fifteen
years of age. It is also intended for collateral
reading in connection with the study of the
numerous elementary text-books on Ameri-
can history.
The authors have attempted to describe
in some detail the perils, the arduous struggles,
the stern lessons of self-denial, and the
staunch patriotism of the early settlers of
this country. Personal anecdotes and inci-
dents which thrill us because of their human
element and which smack of the picturesque
life of our forefathers have been freely used.
Such historical material, instinct with human
life, serves a most useful purposje in teach-
PREFACE
ing elementary history. Experienced teachers
know that such material attracts and holds
the attention of boys and girls and tends
to stimulate them to learn more about the
history of their country.
These stories rest upon a substantial his-
torical basis. They have been diligently
culled from many trustworthy sources.
This book would indeed prove of little
worth to young people if it could be read
at a glance and then thrown aside like the
ordinary story-book. It is suggested that
teachers and parents supplement and enrich
the text of this book with such other his-
torical material as may be readily obtained
from school, home, or public libraries.
Albert F. Blaisdell.
Francis K. Ball.
May, 1911.
vi:
CONTENTS
CHAPTBa
I. Elizabeth Tilley, the Young Pilgrim Girl"
II. Squanto Helps the Pilgrims .
III. The Bravery of Hannah Dustin
IV. A Famous Writing - Desk .
V. Bessie Fisher Outwits the Tories
VI. Tempy Wicks Hides Her Horse
VII. Peggy Miller Goes Marketing
VIII. Paul Russell's Bacon is Saved
IX. Fighting the British y/iru Bees
X. A Timely Jack - o' - Lantern
XI. Mercy Tyler Traps a Panther
XII. Bessie Brandon's Unexpected Guest
XIII. David Miller Kills a Rattlesnake
XIV. Little Jarvis, the Midshipman .
XV. Helen Patterson's Escape
XVI. A Last Blow for Spain
XVII. The Charge of the Hounds
XVIII. The Defense of Fort Stephenson
PAGE
1
9
19
28
37
44
50
59
67
73
80
86
92
98
106
112
121
126
VII
ILLUSTRATIONS
Young Captain Grandpre, sword in hand, faced the
dragoon Frontispiece
Squanto now taught thera how to get the old Indian
cornfield ready for a new crop ....
Mr. Dustin stopped his horse and faced the savages
" That will make King George gnash his teeth,"
said the genial old gentleman ....
It was a mad race for an hour
" Do you please sit down with me, and I shall enjoy
this good breakfast with you " . . . . "90
Page
15
It
23
((
33
((
57
THE AMERICAN HISTORY
STORY-BOOK
ELIZABETH TILLEY, THE YOUNG PILGRIM GIRL
JOHN TILLEY was a blacksmith. He
lived in London, where with plenty of
work he made a home for himself and his
family.
Now there were some people in England
who did not Hke the English church and be-
lieved they had a right to worship God in
their own way. John Tilley was one of them.
The King of England told them they must go
to his church or be sent to prison. Some of
these people were really put into prison;
others were driven from their homes and
native land; some were even put to death.
1
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
^' Let us go away/' they said to one an-
other. ^' Let us find a country where we can
worship God as we please."
And so it came to pass that they hired a
vessel, and with their women and children
crossed the sea to Holland. Here they were
allowed to worship as they saw fit.
John Tilley's daughter Elizabeth thought
Holland was an odd country. Indeed it is.
It is almost as flat as a floor. It is so low and
so little above the level of the sea that the
tide could flow over the land. The people
of Holland built great walls, called dykes,
which kept the ocean out. But there were
canals which ran everywhere like great spider-
webs, even through the main streets of the
cities.
As the years passed by, other good people
came across the sea from England, to make
homes for themselves in Holland. At the
end of twelve years there were about a thou-
sand of them. They were a thrifty and hard-
working people. They liked their new friends,
2
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
and were liked by them. Still, it was not
England; and at last they began to feel that
it was not best for them to live any longer
in a strange land. Their children were already
learning the ways of the country and could
speak Dutch as well as English.
'^ We are pilgrims in a strange land," mur-
mured the good Elder Brewster.
" This will never do in the world/ ^ said
Goodman Tilley to his wife one day. " Look
at Elizabeth and the children she is playing
with in the garden. They are talking Dutch
so fast I don't know a word they are saying.
It is high time for us to cross the great ocean
and make a new home for ourselves in
America."
'' In truth, John," answered Goodwife Til-
ley, " we could indeed live there under the
rule of King James of England and yet be
free to worship as we pleased. Let us talk it
over with our good pastor. Elder Robinson,
and get his advice."
Thus it came about that in the summer of
3
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
1620 a little company of these people bade
good-by to Holland, and sailed away to
England in an old vessel called the Speed-
well.
Another vessel, named the Mayflower, was
waiting for them. The Speedwell, however,
was found to be too old and leaky to make the
voyage across the Atlantic. She was said to
be as open and leaky as a sieve. After many
delays a hundred people were crowded into
the Mayflower and set sail from Plymouth in
September, 1620, on the long voyage across the
sea.
At first Elizabeth Tilley and several other
young girls of her age liked to watch the waves
and the strange sights about the vessel. But
after a time it came on stormy, and the women
and children were often sent below, where it
was cold and dreary, with scarcely room
enough to move about. It was a long voyage
of sixty-three days. The Mayflower was a
frail and leaky craft to cross the Atlantic even
in midsummer. Storm after storm arose, and
4
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
it often seemed as if the vessel would go to
the bottom with all on board.
In the midst of the ocean a baby was born
to Master Stephen Hopkins and his wife
Ehzabeth. We are told that the tiny baby
was a great comfort to all on board.
^^ What shall we name him? ^' asked Ehza-
beth Tilley of her mother one day, when the
boy was a week old.
" The poor thing was born on the ocean;
and why not call him Oceanus? ^'
The name pleased the mother, and the baby
was named Oceanus Hopkins.
^' Land! land! " shouted a sailor, early one
morning.
Yes, there was land; but it was not Vir-
ginia or New Jersey, as the Pilgrims expected.
The last storm had driven the Mayflower
out of her course. They had come to what
is now known as the coast of New Eng-
land. The low, sandy beach before them
was the tip of Cape Cod. In spite of the per-
ilous shoals and head winds the Mayflower
5
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
rounded the Cape, and soon dropped anchor
in what is now the harbor of Province-
town.
This was late in November, in the year
1620. How cold and bleak the icy coast of
Cape Cod looked on that November day!
There was not a living thing to be seen any-
where, except the gulls, as they flew with
shrill cries across the harbor.
Before anybody went ashore, a writing was
drawn up, and forty-one of the men signed it.
They used Governor Bradford's chest for a
table. In this writing they said they would
defend one another and obey such laws as
should be made. They also chose John Carver
as governor of the colony.
Bright and early the first morning on shore
the women went to washing the clothes, for
they had not been able to do washing on
board the Mayflower. This was on a Monday ;
and Monday, as we know, has ever since been
used in New England as wash-day.
Meanwhile the men made three trips along
6
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
the shore of Cape Cod Bay, to find a place
to build their homes. The third trip was made
in their frail sailboat. It was bitter cold,
and the sea was rough. A snowstorm set in,
and they were soon in great peril. The rudder
broke, and the mast came crashing down on
their heads. The men rowed toward a little
cove and brought their boat ashore. This
proved to be on an island well out from the
mainland. It is now known as Clarke's
Island. On the next day but one they rowed
over to the mainland.
At last they had found a good place. This
was Plymouth. They called it '' a beautiful
spot, with cornfields and little running
brooks." They quickly sailed back to Cape
Cod to carry the good news.
The Mayflower had been at anchor in
Provincetown Harbor for a month. The
frozen sails were now unfurled, the anchor
raised, and the good ship was headed for the
mainland across the great bay of Cape Cod.
On Saturday, December 20, 1620, the May-
7
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
flower dropped anchor in Plymouth Harbor,
about a mile from the shore.
At last the long voyage was at an end. The
Pilgrims had found a home on the bleak shore
of New England.
And what about Elizabeth Tilley? John
Tilley and his wife did not endure the cold
and hunger of the first winter. They died
early the next spring. Elizabeth married a
man by the name of John Howland. This was
the young man that fell overboard in mid-
ocean, but was quick enough to catch hold of
a trailing rope, and was pulled on board the
Mayflower more dead than alive. As the
records tell us, this worth}^ couple were still
living thirty years after the landing, with a
family of ten children. Elizabeth lived for
sixty-seven years after reaching the Plymouth
shore.
II
SQUANTO HELPS THE PILGRIMS
WHEN the Pilgrims reached New Eng-
land, their hardships had only be-
gun. The Mayflower had to anchor
more than a mile from the shore, the water
was so shallow. Except at high tide they
could not land, even in their boat, without
wading in the icy water. Some of the men
made a trip ashore to spy out the land. The
weather was cold and stormy and the whole
country looked bleak and dreary; for winter
had set in early that year.
The place where the Pilgrims landed had
once been an Indian village. They thought
they should find Indians lurking in the woods;
but all the people had died of the plague,
9
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
and not a living creature was to be seen. The
cornfields were left for the newcomers " to
plant. There were several running brooks
and a large spring close by, from which they
could get plenty of fresh water.
The first thing to do was to stake out the
land and build some kind of house. That
first Christmas on the Plymouth shore must
indeed have been hard. Governor Bradford
wrote in his journal, " No man rested on that
day; we had a sore storm of wind and rain."
It was on that dreary Christmas morning that
they began to build their first log house, a
cabin about twenty feet square, for storing
their goods.
The women and children stayed on board
the Mayflower. They had to breathe the
bad air of the cabin, and suffered from cold
and hunger. The men came ashore in good
weather and worked all day in building log
cabins and moving their household goods. It
was slow and hard work. The winter days
were short and often stormy. It took a long
10
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
time to go to and from the vessel, and their
food was poor and scanty.
So slow was the work that at the end of the
first year there were only four log storehouses
and seven log cabins in the whole settlement.
Sickness and death came too. During the
first winter nearly one half of the colony died.
At one time there were only seven persons
well enough to wait on the sick and bury the
dead.
Governor Bradford wrote in his journal:
'^ On the third day of March it was warm and
fair; the birds sang in the woods most
pleasantly. In the afternoon there was a
thunderstorm, and it rained very sadly until
midnight.'' And two days later, we are told,
one of the children sowed some garden seeds.
One Friday afternoon in March, when the
Pilgrims were busy about their log cabins, a
tall, half-naked Indian came out of the woods
at the top of the hill. He walked boldly
toward the little village of log houses and
cried out, " Welcome, Enghshmen, welcome! "
11
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
It seems that the Indian's name was
Samoset and that he had lived on the coast
of Maine, where he picked up a few Enghsh
words from the fishermen. It was beheved
that he mistook the Mayflower for a fishing
vessel and felt free to enter the little village.
The Pilgrims treated their savage guest
kindly. They gave him a coat to cover his
bare shoulders; and they fed him on ^' bis-
cuit, butter, cheese, pudding, and roast duck."
They would gladly have got rid of their
guest for the night, but he was not willing to
go; and so they let him stay in one of the
log houses, where they watched him to keep
him from doing harm. In the morning they
sent him away, ^^ after giving him a knife, a
bracelet, and a ring."
Samoset was so well pleased with his new
friends that he came back on a visit the next
day, which was Sunday. This time he brought
five other Indians with him. They were tall,
sturdy men, dressed in deerskins. Some had
their faces painted black. They brought their
12
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
own food with them. It was Indian corn.
They pounded it into meal, put it into a little
water, and then ate it. Governor Bradford
says: ^' They would eat liberally of our Eng-
lish victuals; although it was Sunday, the
redskins sang and danced, after their manner,
like antics. '^
The Pilgrims sent the Indians away before
night. Samoset pretended to be sick; he
would not go until the next Wednesday. He
went home a well-pleased and proud Indian,
for the Pilgrims gave him ^^ a hat, a pair of
shoes and stockings, a shirt, and a piece of
cloth to tie about his waist. '^
On Thursda}^ Samoset came again, bringing
still another Indian with him. The name of
this Indian was Squanto, a sort of nickname
for Squantum or Tisquantum.
It seems that Squanto had once lived in this
region, but had been kidnapped by the cap-
tain of an English vessel and carried to Eng-
land. He lived in London and learned to
speak Enghsh pretty well. Then some kind-
13
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
hearted sea-captain brought him back and put
him ashore on the coast of Maine. Thence he
wandered back to his native place, only to
find most of his people dead. Squanto said
that many Indians once lived in this region
and had large fields of corn; but some dreadful
disease broke out, from which nearly all of
them died.
Squanto proved a useful friend to the Pil-
grims from the very first. He took them out
to a Httle river close by, and showed them how
to fish for eels. He trod the eels out of the
mud and caught them with his hands. Gov-
ernor Bradford says in his journal, ^^ The eels
were fat and sweet, and our people were glad
of them."
Shortly afterwards Squanto came to live
with the Pilgrims. It would be a long story to
tell you all this Indian did for his half-starved
friends.
When the Pilgrims made their first trip
along the shore of Cape Cod they found
several basketfuls of corn, which the Indians
14
SQUANTO NOW TAUGHT THEM HOW TO GET THE OLD
INDIAN CORNFIELD READY FOR A NEW CROP.
Page 15.
■JHh: Nh:vV \OKK
PUBLIC LIBRARY
ASTOR, LENOX AND
TiLDLN FOUi^DATIONS.
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
had buried in the sand. They saved enough
of this to plant in the spring. Squanto now
taught them how to get the old Indian corn-
field ready for a new crop. He showed them
how to catch the httle fish called alewives,
and put two or three into every hill of corn
to make the corn grow better. He also showed
his friends how to watch the cornfields to
prevent the wolves from digging up the fish. ,
It has been said that without the seed corn
and the help of Squanto the whole Plymouth
settlement would have starved to death
before the end of the first year. The Pilgrims
had left their old home in England without
hooks and lines for fishing. Here again
Squanto was able to lend a hand, and taught
his friends how to catch fish and lobsters
after the Indian fashion.
Squanto now began to serve the settlers in
another way. The chief of the Indians in the
Plymouth region was Massasoit. He had
been told wonderful things about the white-
faced strangers, and wished to visit them.
15
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
One day he came with some of his warriors
to the top of the hill to make a friendly visit,
and Squanto was sent out to talk with him.
Shortly afterward Massasoit and twenty red-
skins came tramping into the settlement,
leaving their bows and arrows behind them.
This Indian chief was a tall, strong young
man. He wore a large chain of white bone
beads about his neck; at the back of his neck
hung a little bag of tobacco, which he smoked
and gave to the Pilgrims to smoke. His
face was painted a deep red; his head and
face were so covered with oil that he '^ looked
greasily.'^ His warriors were tall and strong,
and were painted, some black, some red,
some yellow, and some white.
The chief and his warriors went marching
slowly along the narrow street and into the
large log cabin. A great noise was made with
a trumpet, and some of the men fired their
muskets. Governor Bradford did the honors.
He kissed the chief's hand, and Massasoit
kissed the governor, and then they sat down
16
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
for a talk. The Indian chief sat on a green
mat, with some cushions placed round him.
Massasoit was greatly pleased with his re-
ception. A copper chain and some beads
were given to him. He said he would live in
peace with his white-faced friends. The red-
skin chief kept his word. The treaty was
kept sacred for more than fifty years.
Squanto hked to tell his Indian friends
about the white-faced settlers. He said the
Pilgrims kept gunpowder in the cellars of the
log cabins; in the same place, he said, where
the plague was kept. If an Indian did any
harm to the strangers, the plague would be
let loose to destroy every redskin along the
coast.
The Pilgrims owed a good deal of money to
their friends in England; for they had been
obliged to run into debt to fit out the May-
flower. After a while they coasted along the
shore to trade with the Indians for furs and
corn. On such trips Squanto was a great
help as pilot. Late one fall, about two years
17
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
after Squanto came to live with the Pilgrims,
he sailed with his friends outside of Cape Cod
as far as the elbow. This place is now known
as Chatham. Here the Indians were shy of the
strangers, but Squanto at last induced them
to sell eight hogsheads of corn and beans.
Poor Squanto! On this trip he was taken
with a fever and died in a few days. Before he
died he gave some of his things to his English
friends as keepsakes. His last words were,
^^ Pray that the Indian Squanto may go to
the white man's heaven.''
18
Ill
THE BRAVERY OF HANNAH DUSTIN
KING PHILIP, the famous Indian chief,
was killed just a hundred years before
the Declaration of Independence. His
death put an end to the so-called King Philip's
War. The settlers in New England now had
a period of rest from the redskins.
Peace did not last long. Another war came.
This was called King William's War. It be-
gan in the year 1690, and lasted seven years.
At this time William was king of England,
and Louis XIV was king of France. Louis
declared war against William, and ordered his
people in Canada to make war on the English
people who had settled along the coast of
New England.
19
THE AMEKICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
Now we must keep in mind that in this war,
as in the other French and Indian Wars, the
Indians generally fought on the side of the
French, against the English. The savages
came down from Canada, sometimes on snow-
shoes in the dead of winter, and did all
manner of cruel deeds. They killed the
settlers, burned their log cabins, and carried
off the women and children to Canada, where
they traded them for strong drink, muskets,
and gunpowder.
The last years of King Wilham's War were
dreadful. We are told that twelve hundred
cabins were burned and that nearly six hun-
dred persons were killed or carried away to
Canada as prisoners. It was a life of constant
terror.
There are many thrilling tales of those
Indian attacks. Few other towns suffered
so many hardships as Haverhill, Massachu-
setts, now a large and prosperous city, but
in those early days a little village of thirty log
cabins. The redskins used to come down the
20
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
Merrimac River in their canoes and lurk in the
woods for weeks to burn some lonely house or
scalp the men at work in the fields. They
would then paddle up the river with their
captives and steal out of sight in the deep
forests of New Hampshire.
One morning in the middle of March, 1697,
a settler named Thomas Dustin was busy
cutting firewood half a mile or so from his
cabin and about two miles from Haverhill.
His wife, Hannah Dustin, was sick in bed.
All of a sudden, with wild yells, a party of
twenty Indians rushed out of the woods and
started across the clearing toward the cabin.
^^ Indians! Indians! Here they come! ''
shouted Hannah, the oldest daughter, bursting
into the house.
^^ Now, Hannah, and you, Elizabeth, get the
little ones out of the house as quick as you
can and run down the road! " cried Mrs.
Neff, who was nursing Mrs. Dustin. '^ See
if you can reach the village before the Indians
get you.''
21
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
There was not a moment to spare. Down
the cart-road, through the woods, ran the
seven Dustin children as fast as their legs
could carry them. Thomas, a stout lad of
fourteen, carried Timothy, only three years
old, while little Jonathan and Abigail did their
best to keep up with the older children.
Mr. Dustin, who was at work at the edge
of the woods, had seen the Indians crossing the
clearing. He seized his musket, jumped on
his horse, and galloped home.
" Keep to the cart-road, children! Run for
your lives! "
When he reached the cabin, the Indians
were already inside. It seemed to him there
was only one thing to do. He must leave his
wife and try to save his children.
In another moment he was galloping down
the road. He caught up with the children
about a quarter of a mile from the house. For
a moment he thought he would take up the
little boy or the little girl; but he made up
his mind to try to save them all.
22
MR. DUSTIN STOPPED HIS HORSE AND FACED THE
SAVAGES. Page 23.
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
'' Run, children, run! I'll keep the Indians
back; run for the blockhouse on the hill! "
Half a dozen Indians had left the cabin
and were coming after them. Mr. Dustin
stopped his horse and faced the savages. They
fired at him. He fired back, and a savage fell.
The Indians stopped for a moment, and Mr.
Dustin turned and galloped after his children.
The Indians came on again and fired at him.
He returned the fire and again followed the
children.
After a time the savages gave up the chase
and ran back to the cabin. Mr. Dustin and
the children soon reached the clearing in
front of the blockhouse. The people rushed
out to their help, and the next minute all
were safe inside.
Poor Mrs. Dustin was having a hard time of
it. The savages dragged the weak and
trembling woman out of bed and gave her a
few minutes to dress. They took from the
cabin all they could carry with them, and
then set it on fire. Mrs. Dustin, with Mrs.
23
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
Neff carrying the baby, together with about
a dozen other captives, had to begin the long
tramp to Canada. The party had gone only
a little way when the baby began to cry. A
savage took it and killed it.
It was a long and weary tramp through the
deep forests of New Hampshire. Mrs. Dustin
and Mrs. Neff fell to the lot of an Indian
called Big Bear, who lived a few miles above
Concord, on an island in the Merrimac
River. This island has ever since been known
as Dustings Island. The Indian^s family
consisted of two warriors, three squaws, and
seven children, besides a lad named Samuel
Lenardson, captured two years before.
'^ Mary," said Mrs. Dustin one day to Mrs.
Neff, " the Indians have told Sam that we
are soon to start for Canada. I am not going
to tramp there, to be sold hke cattle or to be
tortured. I have a plan by which we may
escape and perhaps get home again."
Mrs. Dustin said she would kill Big Bear
with a tomahawk. Mrs. Neff was to shoot the
24
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY-BOOK
other Indian, while Sam was to kill one of the
squaws. After this all three were to kill the
rest of the Indians as best they could.
Long before daybreak Mrs. Dustin silently
waked Mrs. Neff and the boy. The Indians
were sound asleep. Still as mice, these three
people stole across the wigwam and stood over
the victims.
" Now! " cried Mrs. Dustin, and all did
their part.
All three Indians were killed. Short work
was made of seven of the others. One Indian
woman, although struck several times with
a tomahawk, escaped into the woods. One
Indian boy, in the words of the famous Cotton
Mather, to whom Mrs. Dustin told her story
five years after, ^^ scuttled away from this
desolation '^ into the forest.
Not a moment was to be lost. The two
Indians who had escaped might carry the
alarm to other redskins. With the tomahawks
they made holes in all the canoes but one.
They then took a few handfuls of dried corn
25
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
from the wigwam, threw some blankets into
the canoe, and the next moment they were
paddhng down the river.
Mrs. Dustin suddenly stopped paddhng.
'' Why, Mary! ^' she cried; ^' our people
will never believe we killed ten Indians. We
must go back and scalp them, and carry the
scalps home with us."
So back to the wigwam the women paddled
the canoe. Soon ten bloody scalps, wrapped
in a piece of cloth, were laid in the bottom of
the canoe. Once more the two women were
paddling swiftly down the Merrimac. There
was danger every moment from lurking In-
dians, or from the rapids, swollen by the
spring floods.
In spite of perils and narrow escapes, the
tired and weary party reached Haverhill in
safety. Great was the surprise when they
walked into the little village. Their friends
had given them up for dead. Still greater
was the wonder when the settlers saw the
scalps. And we can well believe that the
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Dustin children shed tears of joy when
they saw their mother home again safe and
well.
The story of Hannah Dustings exploit went
far and wide. The colony paid her fifty dollars
apiece for the scalps. And even the governor
of far-away Maryland sent her a present,
with a letter praising her for her brave deed.
The famous tomahawk was lost, but the
musket is still to be seen in Haverhill, while
several pieces of the cloth in which the scalps
were wrapped are kept as relics by the great-
great-great-grandchildren of Hannah Dustin.
27
IV
A FAMOUS WRITING - DESK
THE War of the American Revolution
began in 1775. Up to that time the
colonies in this country were subject
to England.
In 1760, George the Third, a young man of
twenty-two, came to the English throne. He
needed money and listened to the advice of
unwise men.
^^ Tax the Americans, ^^ they urged; " make
them pay on everything they receive in our
ships; they are rich and will not mind it."
King George tried in another way also to
force money out of the colonists. A law was
made that every piece of paper on which
notes, deeds, and such things were written,
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should have a stamp on it. Even the alma-
nacs and the newspapers had to have stamps
on them. These stamps cost from one cent
to fifty cents each.
This law was called the Stamp Act. It
made the people very angry. In Virginia a
great and bold patriot named Patrick Henry
told the people to use any paper they pleased,
and pay no heed to the new law. The people
made up their minds not to submit to such
taxation. They refused to buy the stamps
and burned all they could get. On the day
the law went into effect shops were closed,
church bells tolled, and flags were placed
at half-mast.
Not long after this the English king laid a
tax on glass, paper, tea, and other things.
The trouble between the king and his
American subjects grew more and more
bitter.
''Pay the taxes,'' King George insisted,
" or I will send my soldiers and make you."
Our people rephed that it was not the
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amount of the tax that they cared for. They
claimed that King George had no right to tax
them at all without their consent; and they
declared over and over that they would not
obey.
True to his word, King George sent soldiers
to force the people to submit. Two regiments
of redcoats were quartered in Boston.
This of course made our people very angry.
They hated the soldiers and called them bad
names. The soldiers paid back insult with
insult.
One day a number of angry schoolboys
complained to the British commander that
the redcoats had destroyed their sledding on
Boston Common.
'^ The very children here," remarked Gen-
eral Gage to one of his officers, ^' draw in a
love of liberty with the air they breathe.'^
Then a quarrel arose one evening in Boston
between the soldiers and the people. The
soldiers fired into the crowd, and five people
were killed and seven wounded.
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The bells of the city were rung, and the
roar of angry voices filled the narrow streets.
Quiet was not restored until the troops were
sent to a fort in the harbor.
Three years later King George took the
tax off everything except tea. He said he
kept this to show the Yankees he had a
right to tax them.
Ship after ship filled with tea was sent to
this country, but not a pound of it was
allowed to be sold. Hundreds of chests were
stored in damp cellars and left to spoil.
Some of the ships carried their cargoes back
to England.
One winter day in 1773 two ships came to
Boston, but were not allowed to unload their
tea. In the night a party of men dressed like
Indians rushed on board the vessel, broke
open the chests, three hundred and forty-two
in all, and threw their contents into the sea.
Of course the king was very angry. More
troops were sent over, and affairs went
rapidly from bad to worse.
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Wise men all over the land saw that war
must come. Guns and gunpowder were made
ready. Hundreds of men formed themselves
in companies to fight at a minute's notice.
War broke out shortly afterwards. It
began with the Battle of Lexington, April 19,
1775. A few weeks later a hard-fought battle
took place on Bunker Hill.
We must not forget that during all this
time our people called themselves loyal British
subjects. They had fought as Englishmen
for their rights, and not against England.
Slowly but surely, however, the idea of
independence began to grow. Men saw that
they were really fighting for freedom. Public
meetings were called, and the question was
talked over. Some of the best men in the
colonies were sent to Philadelphia to attend a
meeting there. On that occasion a staunch
patriot from Virginia offered a resolution,
saying, '^ These united colonies are, and of a
right ought to be, a free and independent
state."
32
THAT WILL MAKE KLNG GEORGE GNASH HIS TEETH,
SAID THE GENIAL OLD GENTLEMAN. Page y^
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Five of the ablest men of the country were
selected to prepare a statement for publica-
tion. Thomas Jefferson of Virginia, chairman
of this committee, was chosen to draw up the
paper. He was not a strong public speaker,
but he was known as a writer of plain and
simple English.
Now Jefferson had rented rooms of a
cabinet-maker named Ben Randall; and it
seems that he planned a writing-desk, and
had Mr. Randall make it for him. It was a
plain little affair of mahogany, and stood only
about three inches high from the table on
which it was placed. "
Well, this desk has come to be famous, for
on it Jefferson wrote that wonderful docu-
ment known as the Declaration of Inde-
pendence.
When Jefferson had finished the writing, he
invited Benjamin Franklin to call at his room
to hear what he had written.
^' That's good enough; I wish I had written
it myself; that will make King George gnash
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his teeth," said the genial old gentleman,
when the different passages were read to him.
There was a lively debate when the Dec-
laration was presented to the delegates at
Philadelphia. With a few slight changes,
however, it was finally adopted. It was
signed on July 4, 1776.
We may be sure it was a time of deep in-
terest to the hundreds gathered outside the
Old State House on that hot July afternoon.
The old bell-ringer had been in the belfry
since morning, having placed a boy in the
hall below to wait for the signal.
^' They will never do it, they will never do
it! '^ cried the old bell-ringer, impatiently
shaking his head.
Suddenly a shout came from below. The
boy, wild with excitement, came running up
the belfry stairs, calling out, ^^ Ring! ring! "
And the old man rang the bell as it had
never been rung before.
Riders on the swiftest horses carried the
glad news far and wide. Cannon were fired,
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bells were rung, patriotic music was played,
flags were flung to the breeze, and bonfires
were lighted on hills and mountains.
Look at a copy of the Declaration of Inde-
pendence and see the big bold signature of
John Hancock of Massachusetts.
^^ There! ^' exclaimed this great patriot;
'^ King George can read that without spec-
tacles."
Stephen Hopkins of Rhode Island was sick
at this time; his name is written with a
shaky hand.
^' See how my hand trembles/^ he said;
'^ but my heart does not."
^^ We must all hang together in this matter,"
were the words of John Hancock, when they
crowded round the table to sign their names
to the document.
^' Surely," replied the witty Benjamin
Franklin; ^' we must indeed, or we shall all
hang separately."
All honor to the fifty-six bold patriots who
signed the Declaration of Independence. They
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staked ^' their lives, their fortunes, and their
sacred honor." They were chosen men of
high purpose and exalted character. They
were fit to become the leaders of the young
nation.
Thomas Jefferson^s Declaration of Inde-
pendence is now in Washington. It has
become worn and faded, but is preserved as
a most sacred document.
As for the little mahogany writing-desk, it
too has found its way to Washington, to rest
with other precious relics of colonial days.
Jefferson gave it, when an old man, to his
granddaughter. It remained in her family
until recently, when it was presented to
Congress and became the property of the
nation.
36
BESSIE FISHER OUTWITS THE TORIES
DURING the time of our Revolution
the country north of New York City
was wild and rugged. This region
was often called the neutral ground; for it
was not within either the British or the
American lines. It extended for thirty miles
along the Hudson River, and took in nearly
all of Westchester County.
The reckless and lawless stragglers of both
armies found it a convenient place to do about
as they pleased. Houses and barns were
burned, crops destroyed, and cattle and horses
stolen to such an extent that the people were
heartily sick and tired of war.
These stragglers were divided into two
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parties. The cowboys, as they were called,
belonged mostly to the British side, and spent
their time in stealing cattle and driving them
to New York. The second party was known
as the Skinners. They lived chiefly within the
patriot lines, but they were brutal and cruel,
and plundered and stole everything they
could lay their hands on.
This neutral ground, which was almost
like a battlefield, was not a pleasant place
for a young couple to begin housekeeping in,
but just as the war broke out Andrew and
Bessie Fisher moved into their neat little log
cabin on one of the hillsides.
They lived in peace only a few weeks.
Andrew enlisted in the patriot army, and soon
became one of Washington's boldest and most
trusted scouts. The young bride went to
Washington's camp and nursed the sick and
wounded soldiers. After a time, however, she
went home; and she was living alone at the
time our story begins. The young husband
now and then made short trips to see his wife;
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but such visits were full of risk. The British
were always on the watch to capture him.
Late one afternoon Andrew came rushing
into the house.
^' Save me! Save me, Bessie! The redcoats
are after me, just round the bend of the road.
Hide me, or they will catch me.'^
Bessie quickly pulled up some of the rough
boards of the kitchen floor. There was a hole
beneath, deep enough to conceal a man.
" Jump in here! Quick, Andrew! ''
The young man crawled in, and Bessie put
the boards in place, just as the British soldiers
began to pound on the door of the cabin.
'^ Surrender, you rebel! We saw you run
in! '^ shouted the officer in command. ^^ We
have got you this time! "
Bessie^s heart was beating fast, but she put
on a calm face. ^^ Search the house all you
please," was her quiet answer.
The troopers rushed in and examined every
nook and corner of the cabin, but no scout
could they find.
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Before midnight Andrew crawled out of the
dark hole under the kitchen floor and escaped
to Washington's camp.
On another occasion, not many months
later, Mrs. Fisher was again expecting a visit
from her husband. The time was indeed
full of peril, for the cowboys and Skinners
were doing wicked things in the neutral
ground. The devoted wife, however, was
keeping close watch. Just at sunset she looked
out of her cabin window to be sure that nobody
was in sight.
She watched a clump of woods a little way
back of the cabin. Suddenl}^ she saw a man
running at full speed toward her. As he
dashed along he looked back, stumbled and
fell, but in a flash was up and running again,
as if for life.
^^ It must be Andrew. The Tories are after
him again. Oh dear! what shall we do? ''
The scout was soon inside the house.
" The Tories! They are coming! Hide me
quick, somewhere, anywhere! "
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'' Oh, what shall I do? '' thought the good
wife. " They will surely capture him this
time. Oh, what shall I do? " \
She glanced into the yard. Near the kitchen
door she saw her hens scratching in the ash
heap. She seized a feather brush that was
hanging beside the fireplace. She pulled out
several quills, and with a knitting-needle
pushed the pith out. Then she joined the
quills together, making a tube of them.
^^ Quick, Andrew! There is not a minute
to spare.''
She ran into the yard with a shovel and
began digging in the side of the ash heap.
" Quick! '' and she gave the quill tube to her
husband. '' Hold this in your mouth and get
into this hole ; I will cover 3^ou up. Keep your
eyes and mouth shut.''
The scout lay down in the hole. Quick as
a wink his wife covered him with ashes,
leaving the end of the tube free, so that he
could breathe.
She then hurried back into the house and
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stood ready to greet her visitors when they
came riding up to the door.
'^ Who are you, and what do you want? ''
she asked.
'^ Let us have that young Andrew Fisher/'
rephed the captain of the Tory party.
'^ Come in and find him, if you think he is
here.''
" Come on, boys! " and the captain led the
way. " Last year this woman hid her husband
under the kitchen floor. Perhaps he is hid
there now."
Twenty or more of the Tory band searched
the cabin. They took up the kitchen floor;
they tore open the feather beds; they kicked
over tables and chairs; they went up the lad-
der and examined the loft. But no Andrew
Fisher was to be found.
" Go out and search the barn/' ordered the
captain, walking toward the ash heap.
And now poor Bessie was almost ready to
faint with fear. But the officer soon left the
spot and followed his men to the barn.
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At last, after ransacking the premises, the
Tories gave up the search.
''If we ever catch that rebel husband of
yours, we will hang him to the nearest tree! ''
shouted the angry captain, as he and his gang
rode off down the valley.
It was a strange-looking man that crawled
out of the ash heap a few minutes after the
Tories rode away. Covered from head to
foot with ashes, almost choked for want of
air, and his eyes filled with dust, the poor
scout looked sorry enough. But soap and
water soon m^ade a new man of him.
'' What were you thinking of when you were
under the ashes? ^' asked Bessie, with a hearty
laugh.
'' I thought of what our good preacher says
sometimes, ' Ashes to ashes.' "
'' True enough,'' added Bessie; '' but out
of the ashes you came to life again. Perhaps
it will be so with our poor country.''
43
VI
TEMPY WICKS HIDES HER HORSE
THE War of the Revolution had been
going on for two years. Washington
and his army were in camp near
Morristown, New Jersey, not far from New
York City. The British army was in camp
near by.
A Httle distance away was an estate known
as the Wicks farm. On it hved its owner, Mr.
Wicks, with an only daughter, a young girl
named Temperance. She was called Tempy
for short. She owned a fine horse named
Flora.
Now that there was war in the land, strag-
glers from both armies were making no end of
trouble. Still, the young girl rode here and
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there and everywhere, without fear, just as
she had done in times of peace.
'^ Washington's soldiers will do me no
harm," thought Tempy; '' and I am sure
my Flora can run faster than any horse the
redcoats have. Let them catch me if they
can."
It was a lovely afternoon in June, and
Tempy was returning home through the
woods after a long ride. She was within a
mile or so of the farm. All of a sudden from
a clump of bushes beside the road stepped
out a dozen British soldiers.
" Halt, young woman! " cried the sergeant.
She looked round in surprise. There were
the redcoats drawn up in line, aiming their
guns at her. The girl spoke to her horse,
and the faithful animal stopped. Up rushed
the soldiers and seized the bridle.
" What do you want of me? " asked Tempy;
" this horse is mine, and I am on my way
home; you have no right to stop me."
^' Never mind, miss; this is a fine horse of
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yours; '' and the sergeant took a good look
at Flora.
" She certainly is, but she belongs to me,
and I must ride home at once; so let me
'' Not so fast, young lady,'' continued the
officer. ^^ This is just the horse my captain
wants; his own horse died last week."
^' I don't care anything about your captain
and what he wants," cried Tempy, getting a
little angry. '' Go about your business and
let me get home."
*' I have orders to take horses wherever I
find them," was the calm reply of the officer;
^^ so, young miss, jump down! "
The girl saw that the redcoats were in ear-
nest and were bound to rob her of her horse.
She was keen-witted and quickly made up her
mind what to do. She pretended to be get-
ting ready to dismount. The redcoat who
held the bridle let go of it, and turned aside
for a moment to speak to a comrade. Quick
as a flash the girl gave the spirited horse a
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cut with her whip, dashed between two of the
soldiers, and was gone.
^^ Fire, men, fire! " shouted the sergeant.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The soldiers had fired their guns into the
air, thinking to make the girl stop.
It was too late. Tempy was far down the
road, riding as fast as the swift horse could
carry her.
The redcoats did not give up the chase.
Some of them knew where the girl lived. They
ran through the woods, hoping to reach the
Wicks farm first.
^^ What shall I do with Flora when I get
her home? '^ and Tempy wrinkled her pretty
brow; " there are no men to help me, and
these redcoats will be sure to go to the barn
and carry her off. What shall I do? "
She could ride over to one of the neighbors,
but sooner or later she would have to come
back. The redcoats would watch for her,
even if it took a week. If she tied her horse
to a tree in the woods and came back on foot,
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the soldiers would soon find the animars
hiding-place.
Tempy did some lively thinking while she
was riding home. An idea came to her just
as she was within sight of the house. She
looked down the road. The redcoats were not
in sight.
Not a moment was to be lost. She dashed
through the front gate of the large yard
and jumped from her horse at the back door.
Opening the door, she led the gentle animal
through the kitchen into the front hall, and
then into the parlor.
Now off the parlor was a bedroom, which
was a guest chamber. There was only one
window, and the shutters were closed when
the room was not in use. Into this dark
room Tempy quickly led her horse, and tied
her to the bedpost.
Hardly had the young girl made everything
snug when the angry soldiers came tramping
into the yard. They searched the big barn,
the carriage house, and the woodshed. At
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last they came into the house and looked high
and low, but they did not find the horse.
'' Where did you hide that horse, young
girl? '' growled the sergeant. '' Tell us, or
there will be trouble.''
" Very well,'' smiled Tempy; " but if you
get my horse, you will have to find her first."
Angry words were of no use; and at last
the redcoats gave up the search and rode back
to their camp. Flora was quietly eating her
oats in the best bedroom. The noise of her
feet had been muffled with a litter of hay.
As the story goes, Tempy kept her horse in
the bedroom for three weeks. Shortly after-
ward the British troops broke up their camp
in New Jersey and went back to New York.
Not one of them, however, rode on Tempy's
horse. When the redcoats had gone. Flora
came out of the guest chamber and went
back to her stall in the big barn.
49
VII
PEGGY MILLER GOES MARKETING
*' X ^ TELL, Peggy, my girl, I have told
\/\/ you exactly what to say and what
to do; and now if you are really
afraid, you need not go. The trip is full of
danger, and you are pretty young to be sent
on such an errand."
^' Perhaps I am a bit afraid. Major Tal-
madge," quietly answered Peggy Miller, a
young girl of sixteen. '' But never mind that;
I am ready to go and I'll do my best."
For several months there had been sharp
fighting around Philadelphia. The patriot
army had the worst of it. General Washing-
ton and his ragged, half-starved men were in
camp a few miles outside of Philadelphia,
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while the British were hving in the city itself,
in ease and comfort.
Major Talmadge was in command of patriot
cavalry that rode to and fro between the out-
posts of the two armies. His duty was to find
out what he could about the British and send
the news to headquarters.
This patriot officer had sent some of his
youngest men, dressed as country lads, into
the city with garden stuff to sell. The young
men went to certain houses and brought back
important information and letters, which
were sent at once to General Washington at
Valley Forge. But Major Talmadge had been
warned that his messengers were suspected
by the British, and that it would be no longer
safe to send them again on such dangerous
errands.
At the time of our story, which was in the
winter of 1777, it was certain that the British
were getting ready to make an important
move. General Washington must learn their
purpose, and learn it at once.
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Major Talmadge and a few of his bold
riders were staying at a small tavern a few
miles from Philadelphia. The tavern was kept
by a Mrs. Miller, whose husband and son
were at Valley Forge with Washington. Her
only daughter, Peggy, helped about the inn.
" Your daughter is just the one to go into
the city and bring back the news I must
have,'' said Major Talmadge to Mrs. Miller
on this winter morning.
^^ Peggy is willing to help. Major, but she is
too young to go on such an errand.''
In came the girl herself.
^^ Let me try, mother," she urged; '^ I
am not afraid of the redcoats; I cannot be
idle while father and brother Ben are freezing
and starving at Valley Forge."
And so it came about that the young girl,
carrying a basket of eggs on her arm, set out
for Philadelphia early the next morning. The
country roads were bad, and the day was cold.
These things did not trouble her, for she was
thinking more of the peril before her.
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Nobody paid any heed to her until she was
near the city.
^^ Here, my girl! Stop and tell us what you
have to sell/' cried one of a half dozen British
soldiers standing near the roadside.
Peggy's heart began to thump, and she
wished she were at home with her mother.
^^ Only a few fresh eggs," she replied, turning
pale.
^' Good! I will take all you have; our mess
is sadly in need of fresh eggs."
" No, indeed, sir, I cannot let you have all,
for most of them are promised to Mistress
Morgan on Chestnut Street."
'^ Aha! that's the house where all j^ou coun-
try people sell your stuff. Something is wrong
about that house."
Peggy set her basket down on the ground.
^^ I can sell you two dozen; " and she began
to count out the eggs.
" Nay, nay, my girl; we don't want your
eggs; I was only in fun. Some of you people
are bringing in strange things for sale. Go
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and sell your eggs; I think you are an honest
girl/'
Peggy picked up her basket and walked on.
Once she looked back and saw the soldiers
watching her. They seemed to be talking
about her. She hurried along until she
reached the street where Mrs. Morgan lived.
She ran up the steps of the mansion and
lifted the huge knocker. A redcoat stand-
ing at the street corner watched her as she
stood at the door. Presently a maid ap-
peared.
^^ I must see Mistress Morgan; I have some
eggs to sell; I hope she will buy some."
'^ Come in and I will call the mistress."
In a few minutes Mrs. Morgan, a stately
and prim Quaker lady, entered.
^' What can I do for thee, my girl? " she
asked kindly.
^^ I have some fresh eggs to sell."
'' Is thee sure they are fresh? "
'^ Yes, madam, they are fresh eggs."
Mrs. Morgan gave her a quick, sharp look.
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'^ You have- brought your eggs to the right
market."
The lady took the basket and carried it to
the kitchen. When she returned, the basket
had a loaf of bread in it. Not a word was said,
but Peggy had been told that a letter to Gen-
eral Washington would be hidden in the loaf
of bread.
" If thee must destroy the bread/' said Mrs.
Morgan, pointing to the basket, ^ ^^ simply
repeat these two words to Major Talmadge,
^ Not yet.' Does thee catch my meaning? "
" Certainly, madam," and Peggy made a
low bow.
She took her basket and made ready to
leave the house. She looked sharply about
as she walked slowly down the front steps.
Nobody was to be seen. Even the redcoat
was not in sight.
The young girl hurried along until she
reached the outskirts of the city. There she
found the soldiers whom she had met be-
fore.
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'^ Come here, my girl, and tell us about it,^^
one of them called out.
^^ I have sold my eggs,'' was her simple
answer.
'' What have you in your basket now, my
girl? What's this? As sure as I live, it's a
loaf of bread. It looks good enough to eat; "
and the redcoat roughly grasped the basket
and pulled out the loaf.
^' No, indeed! Please! " begged Peggy;
'' it is for my little sister, who is sick. Please
give it back to me."
" Let the girl alone. Jack," broke in another
of the redcoats. " Give her back the bread;
we are not hungry enough to rob her."
With a laugh the man put the loaf back and
gave her the basket again.
'' Run home, girl, and don't let us catch you
another time. The next time we will arrest
you and send you to General Howe. Hurry
now and get out of our sight."
Peggy did not need to be told to hurry.
Without looking behind her she walked rapidly
56
IT WAS A MAD RACE FOR AN HOUR. Page 57.
ii. NEW YOi^.,
^VELIC LIBRARY
ASTCR, LENOX ."••'lO
TlLCiLN FGUNOATiOiNS.
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
away. Pretty soon she broke into a run. Out
of breath and very tired, the young girl was
at last safe and sound at home again.
" You have done well, my girl/' were the
words of praise of Major Talmadge, when he
broke open the bread and found the note
inside. ^' General Washington shall read this
before sunset, and you shall not be forgotten.''
Mrs. Miller burst into the room.
^' Ride for your life, Major! The British
are coming down the long hill. They will be
here in a few minutes."
The major turned hurriedly to Peggy:
" The redcoats are after us, Peggy; they
suspect your errand. You must go with
me.''
Major Talmadge sprang on his horse and
took the girl up behind him. The next
moment they were galloping down the road.
It was a mad race for an hour. Down the
hills, through the woods, across the rude
bridges, the sturdy horse, covered with foam,
carried the two safe into Germantown. Not
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until the village was reached did the redcoats
give up the chase.
The major helped the tired girl to the
ground.
^' Well, Peggy, it was a pity to lose that loaf
of bread, when so many of our men sadly need
it. Still, General Washington needs that
letter far more than all the bread in the
whole Quaker city.''
A proud and happy girl was Peggy Miller
the next morning when a company of troopers
escorted her back to her home at the old
inn. General Washington wrote her a little
note, to thank her and tell her that her wit
and coolness had saved him and the army
from what might have been a sad mistake.
68
VIII
PAUL Russell's bacon is saved
PAUL RUSSELL, a sturdy young patriot
of South Carolina, was not happy. He
was standing on the piazza of his
father's house and gazing over the broad
fields of the plantation. This was in the year
1780. Of all the dark years of the Revolution
this was one of the darkest. One disaster
quickly followed another.
Paul was a boy of sixteen. He and his
father. Major John Russell, were in General
Sumter's army, but had gone home for a
brief visit.
The Tories found it out, and one dark night
they swooped down on the plantation and
captured both father and son. Paul was left
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at home on parole, but his father was sent at
once on his way to the prison at Charleston.
The boy was quick-witted enough to send a
negro to a company of patriots close by and
tell them of his father's capture. The pa-
triots attacked the British escort halfway to
Charleston and routed them; Major Rus-
sell escaped and went on duty again with
General Sumter.
At this time the British soldiers were
scattered far and wide over South Carolina.
They were quartered in small companies on
the plantations. Captain Heald, one of
Tarleton's officers, and fifty of his men were
making themselves at home on the Russell
plantation.
While Paul walked to and fro along the
broad piazza, idly watching the soldiers, he
could see the British sentries on guard, march-
ing up and down the turnpike. It made him
angry to think how the redcoats had killed
almost all the live stock on the place, to pro-
vide themselves with fresh meat. He was
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also thinking how insolent the soldiers had
been in dealing with his family.
The more the young fellow thought about
it, the more angry and the more helpless he
felt. Still, it was some comfort to know that
the surly and brutal Captain Heald had left
that morning for another command. Lieu-
tenant Mott, the next in rank, and a much
better man, was left in charge.
^^ Shut up here like a rat in a hole! " growled
Paul. " I wish I were with father. I wish
something would happen, so that I could go
back to the army. I had rather ride hard all
day long and waylay the British at night than
be cooped up here like a rat in a trap.''
Well, something did happen to keep Paul's
mind busy the rest of the day. A servant
came and said his mother wished to speak
with him at once. He ran up the broad stairs
and found his mother in the doorway of his
room, with tears running down her cheeks.
" Come in; I have something to show you,"
she whispered, as she closed and locked the
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door. " I found this on the table after
Lieutenant Mott was through eating this
morning."
Paul seized the letter from the trembling
hand of his mother and read as follows:
" August 10, 1780.
'^Lieutenant Mott: — Paul Russell has
broken his parole. He cannot have either a
hearing or a trial. Upon receipt of this you
are ordered to hang this young rebel. Hang
him before sunset to-night. Send me word
to-morrow morning.
'' Heald."
" That is an awful lie! I haven't broken
my parole! It is murder if they hang me! "
Paul burst out, his face deadly pale, and then
red with anger.
^' Be calm, my boy. Listen to me. I think
Lieutenant Mott dropped that letter to help
you. He is not a bad man like Captain
Heald/'
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^^ Never you mind, mother dear, I shall not
hang this time, you may be sure of that.
Don't give up. I will get out of this place
somehow.''
It was a long forenoon for the boy. He
walked up and down the piazza and across the
lawn, and went and chatted with the redcoats.
But those awful words, ^^ Hang him before
sunset to-night," seemed to be written in big
letters across the sky. The birds seemed to
mock him with them, and even the guards
appeared to mutter them as they marched
to and fro with their guns over their shoul-
ders.
The boy could eat little dinner. It seemed
as if the food would choke him. He almost
broke down when he saw the haggard face of
his mother.
His mother was almost frantic.
^^ Oh, what will you do, Paul? I can't let
them hang you! "
^' Keep up your courage, mother. They will
have to shoot me first. I shall not be hanged ;"
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and he kissed his mother and ran out on the
lawn and sat down under a tree.
^' This will never do! I must think of some-
thing. They may come for me at any minute. ' '
He walked slowly down the road toward a
large grove, where a big, good-natured fellow
by the name of Tom happened to be on guard.
^^ It's a hot day," he suggested, when he
came near the sentinel, who was lazily tramp-
ing along the dusty road.
^' To be sure! And I guess you would think
so if you had to carry a gun along this road
for three hours."
'' Why not rest a bit, Tom? Let me have
your gun, and I will take your place."
'' No, my boy, that will never do. Still, I
am much obliged to you just the same."
Tom tramped along the road, while Paul
sat down to think. He watched the soldiers
laughing and talking in their tents. One word
of alarm, and they would be shooting at him.
Just then a little half-starved pig came out
of the woods. He was perhaps the last of the
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drove. He looked at Paul for a moment with-
out moving; but when he saw the sentry, he
turned about, gave a frightened grunt, and
darted up the road as if Colonel Tarleton
himself were after him.
" Here, Paul! Help me catch that crazy-
pig! ^' shouted Tom. ^^ Hurry, and we shall
catch him."
Paul did not need to be asked twice. In
another moment he and the sentry were after
the little pig as fast as they could go.
The redcoats were out of their tents in a
moment, shouting and laughing as if it were
the best fun in the world.
Off came Paul's hat and coat. For him it
was a race for life, and he knew it. Once he
nearly overtook the pig, but took care not to
catch him. The frightened animal squealed
and ran all the faster.
Tom meanwhile had stopped.
" Hey, there, boy! " he shouted. ^^ Come
back! We can't catch him."
Paul gave a quick glance behind him and
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saw that he was out of range of the soldiers.
The only danger now was from Tom's musket.
" Come back, Paul! Come back, or I will
shoot! ''
Paul did not stop.
Bang! went the gun, but the bullet whistled
over his head.
^' Now if I can only reach the swamp, I am
safe; " and he ran faster than before.
He soon reached the grove, and in a few
minutes was safe in the swamp beyond.
Before dayhght the next morning he was
teUing his astonished father the story of his
narrow escape.
" It was clever work, my dear boy; but
don't let the Tories get you again. I wonder
if they caught our little pig."
" I don't know, father," laughed Paul, '' but
the little porker did double duty; he saved his
own bacon, and he saved mine too."
66
IX
FIGHTING THE BRfTISH WITH BEES
ON the southern edge of North Carolina
stands the Httle city of Charlotte.
The people of this section were full of
the love of liberty. In less than one month
after the Battle of Lexington they began to
talk in favor of declaring independence from
England. Five years afterwards, when Lord
Cornwallis, the commander-in-chief of the
British during the Revolution, came to Char-
lotte with his army, he found the people so
eager to fight for their freedom, that he
always called this little town the hornets'
nest of the rebellion.
Early in the fall of 1780 these hornets were
buzzing. The patriots had been defeated in
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South Carolina, in the Battle of Camden.
Lord Cornwallis now felt sure of success in
North Carolina, and was marching toward the
Old North State, with the intention of making
his first stop at Charlotte.
The British soldiers robbed the patriots
of their sheep and cattle, burned their houses
and their crops, stole their horses, and drove
their women and children into the woods.
'^ I will protect your property and pay you
for everything my army needs,'' declared
Lord Cornwallis, " but you must take the
oath of allegiance to King George."
" Never! " was the determined answer of
the bold North Carolina patriots. ^^ We have
pledged our hves, our fortunes, and our honor
to the cause of freedom, and we will not break
our oaths. We will fight you to the bitter
end."
And fight they did, men, women, and
children, and with a will. They made things
so lively for the redcoats that they dreaded
to be sent into the country for supplies. No
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matter if a whole regiment went out, it was
certain to lose some of its men before it got
back to Charlotte. From behind trees, bushes,
barns, and fences the deadly fire of the patriots
thinned the ranks of the hated British.
One morning, while Cornwallis and his army
were at Charlotte, a boy named John Clarke
was at work in a field on his father's farm,
about seven miles from town. The boy's
father and brother were in the patriot army.
John was left at home to take care of his
mother and sisters.
He suddenly heard a great clatter down the
road. He looked up and saw British soldiers
coming into sight, round the bend in the road.
He ran into the house with a shout.
'^ The redcoats are here. The whole army
is coming up the road! "
In a few moments the British were riding
up the lane.
Now John Clarke's mother had already had
experience with British officers and knew what
they were. She sent the girls upstairs and
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seated herself on the piazza with John, to
await the coming of the soldiers.
The leader of the redcoats halted his men
near the house, leaped from his horse, and
came up to the piazza.
" We are in need of supphes, and must
search this place."
" As you please," replied Mrs. Clarke,
quietly. ^^ You have already stolen everything,
and you will find nothing."
The soldiers now began to search the house.
Some went to the barn. Others ransacked
the shed. They could not find much.
'^ I say, boy," growled the British leader,
returning to the piazza, '^ we can^t find anj^-
thing here; you must have hidden something
somewhere."
^' Of course," grinned John. '' We have
one poor cow left; but you can't get her, for
she's out in the woods, over a mile away."
The officer was angry.
'^ One cow isn't much, but it's better than
nothing. Take one of the horses and drive
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her in; and be quick about it, you young
rebel! ^'
John leaped on one of the horses, which had
been tied to the rail fence. Some of the men
tried to stop him.
^^ That's all right!" shouted the British
captain; " he's going on an errand for me."
Trotting his horse by a row of beehives,
John leaned over and upset several of them.
He then struck his horse a sharp blow with a
switch and away went horse and rider out
of the lane and into the road. They were
soon lost to sight in the woods.
The yard was now worse than a hornets^
nest. The angry bees swarmed out of the
hives till the air seemed full of them. The
horses, maddened by the sting of the bees,
began to plunge and kick. With oaths the
redcoats ran here and there to escape. It
was of no use. The bees made it so hot for
them that they went helter-skelter down the
road.
John had looked back as he rode out of the
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lane. It was a sight that he never forgot. As
soon as he was in the shelter of the woods he
jumped off the horse and lay on the ground
and laughed, while the British troopers went
riding pellmell past him.
The road was soon clear of the redcoats, and
John went back to the house to tell his mother
and sisters.
'^ It was a funny sight," he said. ^^ You
never saw anything like it. Some of those
chaps had their eyes shut tight. Some of
their noses looked like powderhorns. And
they swore like troopers. I think I had better
write General Washington about it; it is
better than powder and balls.''
72
A TIMELY JACK - O' - LANTERN
THE first settlers in America made
their homes along the sea, for the
inland country was a trackless wilder-
ness. From Maine to Georgia there was only
a fringe of villages, scattered here and there
along the coast. Shortly after the Revolution,
however, great numbers of men and women
began to go farther and farther west. Hun-
dreds of thrifty settlers left their homes
along the coast, crossed the mountains, and
built new homes for themselves in the rich
lands that are now the states of Ohio, Ken-
tucky, and Tennessee.
Among the early settlers who tramped
across the mountains and through the wilder-
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ness to find new homes on the frontier was
the Merrill family. They built a log cabin
for themselves on the banks of a little river
in southern Ohio. In that cabin there was
only one room. The two boys of the family,
David and Joseph, slept in a kind of loft, on
a bed of dry oak leaves. The loft was reached
by a ladder.
Their first winter was bitter cold. The snow
lay deep and long upon the frozen ground;
but there was plenty of dry, hard wood to
burn in the huge stone fireplace. The oldest
girl, Ruth, helped her mother. The boys set
traps and snared rabbits, while their father
shot wild turkeys and deer. There were no
signs of Indians, and they were happy and
contented, although living in the deep woods,
many miles from their old home in Vir-
ginia.
At last the snow began to melt, the birds
began to sing, and the trees put out their
leaves. Soon it was time to plant.
One day David climbed up into the loft
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to get a package of pumpkin seed which he
had brought with him from the old home.
Not a seed was to be found.
'^ Oh dear! ^' he muttered; *' some of those
red squirrels have gnawed a hole through the
roof and carried all those seeds away. No
pumpkin pies this year! '^
His father tried to comfort him.
^^ Never mind, David, my boy, perhaps
neighbor Johnson across the river can spare
you a few seeds. Mother may be able after
all to bake a few pumpkin pies for us this
winter.'^
A few days after this the two boys were at
work in the clearing. They were burning
some old stumps, when out of one of them
popped a red squirrel and scampered away
into the woods.
" Look, Dave! " shouted Joseph; " there
goes a big, fat red squirrel. Let us find his
nest; it must be in that stump.''
^^ All right, Joe. Perhaps it's the Httle
rascal that stole my pumpkin seeds."
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The two boys began to dig round the
stump. They found some old rags, bits of
dry moss, and some empty shells of hickory
nuts.
'^ Hurrah, Joe! this must be the very chap
that stole the seeds. We may find some the
little thief hasn't eaten yet."
The boys continued their search. At last
amid the empty shells they found three good
pumpkin seeds.
^^ Of course it's better than nothing," said
Joe, glumly; '^ but I must say, Dave, you
have a pretty poor chance of raising much
of a crop."
David was a thrifty lad. He saved the
three seeds and planted them in deep, rich
soil.
How like magic those pumpkin vines grew
that hot, wet summer! All the crops did well
that year, but such huge yellow pumpkins
have seldom been seen.
^^ Dave," his sister Ruth pleaded, one day
late in the autumn, " please make me a
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jack-o'-lantern out of one of your pump-
kins."
^^ Dear me, no, Ruth; I can't spare one,"
But David liked to please his sister, and one
rainy day he made a jack-o'-lantern out of
his largest pumpkin. It looked like a giant,
with eyes, nose, mouth, and teeth red with
fire.
The next evening a man came riding along
the trail by the Merrill cabin.
^^ Indians! Indians! The redskins are
coming! " he shouted, as he rode swiftly by
in the darkness.
Mr. Merrill had gone on an errand to the
village, some ten miles away. Only Mrs.
Merrill and her children were at home; but
she was a woman of courage.
^' Bar the door, and cover up the fire,
children; get your rifle ready, Dave; the
Indians may pass by if they see no Hght here."
Dave stood ready with his rifle. The
youngest girl, Lizzie, cHmbed up into the loft.
Ruth and her mother stood ready with the
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powderhorn and the bullet-pouch to help
David.
" Take the axe and stand at the window;
look sharp for an Indian head," David whis-
pered to his brother.
They had not long to wait.
^' There they are; I can see three of them
crawling up the bank," whispered Joe.
It now occurred to David that he might
make use of the jack-o ^-lantern.
" We cannot be any the worse ofT," he
thought; " I'll try it anyway."
In another moment he had lighted a candle,
put it in the jack-o'-lantern, and covered the
lantern with his coat. He carried it to the
window and uncovered it just as the Indians
came to the cabin door.
The redskins had probably never seen any-
thing of the kind before. Perhaps they
thought some evil spirit was after them.
They gave a yell and ran off into the woods.
The boy thought the savages might get
over their scare and come back, and he kept
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the lantern at the window until his father
returned.
Mr. Merrill patted David on the back.
^' Your pumpkin did us a good turn this
time, my boy, and I am proud of having such
a son to look after mother and the children.
The pumpkin pies will taste all the better too.
You boys may go to bed now. I will watch
for the Indians. '^
Perhaps the three Indians did not intend to
do any harm. At any rate they did not come
back again.
79
XI
MERCY TYLER TRAPS A PANTHER
THE early settlers in the old Granite
State of New Hampshire were beset
with many hardships and dangers.
About the year 1790 a sturdy pioneer by the
name of Jacob Tyler, with wife and two chil-
dren, tramped from Salisbury, Massachusetts,
through the trackless forests and built a cabin
on the east bank of the Merrimac River. At
this time his daughter Mercy was fifteen,
while Parley, his son, was only six years old.
Although far from friends and neighbors,
these good people were living a simple, con-
tented life. Of course at times they were
lonely and longed to return to the old Bay
State. But it was said that other families
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were coming to make their homes in the same
region. The hope of this made them happy,
and they had much else to be thankful for.
They had plenty of good food, for the crops
had done well that year. And the children
had not been sick a single day since they had
left their old home.
It was the third spring since the Tylers
had left Massachusetts. Mr. Tyler had gone
early one morning to his nearest neighbor,
ten miles away, to borrow an axe, having
broken his own a few days before. Mrs.
Tyler was getting ready to do the washing,
and Mercy was helping her. Parle}^ was out
playing in the clearing in front of the house.
He had found a pair of old leather reins in the
shed and tied them to the front door of the
log cabin. With a birch stick for a whip he
was driving as if he had a real horse before
him.
'^ Mercy, dear, go up to the loft for mother
and bring down the soiled clothes lying on the
floor," said Mrs. Tyler.
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'^ Yes, mamma/ ^ and Mercy climbed up the
ladder.
Suddenly a sharp cry came from the cabin
loft.
" Oh, Parley, come in quick! Hurry, Par-
ley! Oh, mother, quick! quick! look out,
quick! "
It was Mercy's voice, but it sounded as if it
were that of some older person.
Parley was standing on the step outside the
cabin door, gazing with smiling eyes and lips
at a strange creature creeping through a patch
of dead grass.
One look was enough for the mother. In a
moment she knew the long, crouching form,
with cat-hke head, with its gleaming eyes
fixed on the child. It was the panther, or
catamount, the most dreaded animal in all
pioneer life.
The little fellow turned to listen to his
sister's call, while the crouching panther
glided forward.
The poor mother gasped for breath. She
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dashed out of the back door and flew round the
corner of the cabin, ready to fight the terrible
creature with her bare hands; but when she
reached the front of the cabin, she saw the
animal struggling on the doorstep. It was
crying as if in fear or in pain. Its big head was
out of sight. The stout oak door had been
shut with a slam on the panther ^s neck and
held it tight.
'^Mother, come quick! help! quick!''
screamed Mercy; ^' I have his head squeezed
in the door. Quick! I cannot hold on
long! ''
The brave little girl had climbed down the
ladder from the loft, and in the nick of time
had slammed the big door to, just as the ani-
mal was creeping over the threshold.
^^ Hold on tight, dear; mother will help you;
don't be afraid! Hold on for your life! "
Meanwhile, the angry panther acted as if
he were caught in a trap. He growled and
snarled, and tried to get free. If the angry
beast had forced his body inside the cabin, he
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would have succeeded, but he only tried to
pull himself out, and was held all the tighter.
What was to be done? The snarling animal
was likely to get loose at any moment.
Mrs. Tyler seized the leather reins with
which the boy had been playing, and held
them tight.
'' Now, Mercy, listen and do just as I bid
you! Tell Parley to get papa's gun up in the
loft; be careful, for it is loaded. Then crawl
out of the back window and bring the gun
to me. Hurry! "
The angry creature was twisting his body
to and fro and growling fearfully. It looked
as if he would get away at any moment. It
seemed a long time before Mercy came
running round the corner of the cabin with
the loaded musket.
'' Give me the gun, Mercy. Hold these
reins tight, while I shoot him."
The trembhng girl seized the reins, while the
mother walked calmly toward the furious
beast. She held the muzzle of the gun just
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behind the animars front legs and fired. The
catamount made one leap, pulling the reins
from Mercy's weary hands, and fell dead on
the cabin floor.
The brave pioneer woman dropped the gun
and began to cry.
'^ Why, mother! the panther can't hurt you;
it's dead."
" Mother knows that, dear; I am only
weak for the moment. How thankful I am
for such a brave little daughter! How proud
your father will be! ''
85
XII
BESSIE BRANDON^S UNEXPECTED GUEST
BESSIE BRANDON was a pretty girl
of fourteen. She lived with her
father and mother on a plantation in
South Carolina. It was a bright May morning
in 1791, and the birds were singing in the big
oak under which she sat. But the young girl
was sad and almost ready to cry.
At this time the Revolution was at an end,
after eight years of fighting. The thirteen
colonies were now the United States of
America, and General George Washington was
the first President.
Now this great and good man, whom all the
people admired and loved, made up his mind
to travel through the South. He wanted to
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see and to talk with the men and women who
had borne so many hardships during the war.
He longed to greet the many brave officers
and soldiers who had fought so well and so
bravely under Marion, Sumter, and Greene.
The people of the South were much pleased
to have this great man with them. Every-
where they came in crowds to greet and honor
their beloved President. In some towns
arches of flowers spanned the road. In other
places young girls scattered flowers and
wreaths of roses before him as he rode along
the street.
The morning on which our story opens was
the very day that President Washington and
his party were expected to ride through the
town of Chester, about six miles from Bessie
Brandon^s home. All the family except Bessie
had gone early; she was left behind to look
after the house.
Washington and his party rode in a large
cream-colored coach, drawn by four white
horses. By the side of the coach milk-white
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saddle-horses were led along, to be used when
the President was tired of riding in the car-
riage. Then there were men on horseback,
who rode as an escort, besides a number of
servants dressed in white suits with yellow
trimmings. Behind the coach came the
baggage-wagon, drawn by two horses, and
followed by an escort on horseback.
" What a splendid time they'll have at
Chester,'' thought Bessie, sadly; ^' and brother
Obed is to make an address of welcome. Too
bad! too bad! " and this time she gave a sob
as she thought of the gay scene, and herself
at home all alone.
How quiet it was! and it was only nine
o'clock, with the long summer day still before
her.
Suddenly Bessie heard the sound of gal-
loping horses. It could not be the redcoats,
for they had gone away long ago. A party
came galloping down the road. In another
moment a great coach drawn by four horses
stopped at the gate. Servants in yellow and
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gold opened the door of the carriage, and out
stepped a tall, fine-looking gentleman.
Bessie had dried her tears and now stood on
the piazza, looking with wonder at the tall,
richly dressed stranger, who walked slowly
toward the house and paused before the steps.
" Good morning, Httle miss. Can you not
give me some breakfast? I have had a long
ride since sunrise, and I am very hungry. ''
Now, while Bessie was astonished at this
request from a stranger, she was well-bred.
She made a deep curtsy, as any well-bred
girl of that time would do.
" Father and mother have gone to Chester,
sir, to see General Washington, and I am left
to tend the house. I hardly know what to
say.''
^' Pray tell me your name, Httle miss."
^' Bessie Brandon, sir."
^' And how old are you, Bessie? "
^^ I shall be fourteen next August, please."
" Well, Bessie," continued the stranger,
taking a seat on the broad piazza, '' never
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mind if you are alone. If you will get me some
breakfast, I promise that you shall see General
Washington before any of your family do."
" Very well, sir; " and her bright eyes began
to shine; " I will do the best I can for you,
but our food is plain."
Bessie was an excellent housekeeper. Her
mother had taught her how to cook and to
wait on the table. In a few moments the
young girl had spread the table with snow-
white linen and got out her mother^s best
china and silver. She prepared bacon and
eggs, and made coffee; and then with nimble
feet ran to the spring for milk and butter. In
a few minutes a meal good enough for the
best man in the land was neatly spread on the
table in the cool sitting room.
^^ Come, sir, your breakfast is ready,"
curtsied Bessie.
" Ah, my Httle maid, you have done well.
Do you please sit down with me, and I shall
enjoy this good breakfast with you."
The stately gentleman served his young
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DO YOU PLEASE SIT DOWN WITH ME, AND I SHALL
ENJOY THIS GOOD BREAKFAST WITH YOU."
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
hostess, and then ate with relish the plain
but dainty breakfast.
The guest was extremely dignified and sober,
SO dignified and so sober that I suppose Bessie
was not sorry when the meal was over»
When he had finished his breakfast and was
ready to go on his journey, he bent gentl}^
down and kissed his little hostess.
^^ Bessie, my dear, you may tell your father
and mother that you not only saw General
Washington before anybody else did in the
city, but that you ate breakfast with him, and
that he kissed you.^^
Bessie Brandon lived to be an old lady.
She often told of the day when she had the
honor of preparing breakfast for President
Washington and of eating it with him.
91
XIII
DAVID MILLER KILLS A RATTLESNAKE
THE pioneers of Indiana had to fight
many kinds of foes, seen and unseen.
The wolves killed their sheep, the
foxes and lynx ate their lambs and pigs, and
the raccoons and squirrels fed on their corn.
Even the turtles in the ponds caught the
ducks and the young geese. And then there
were the savages, chills and fever, vermin, and
poisonous snakes.
Perhaps the most dreaded foes of all were
the deadly rattlesnakes and copperheads. In
some parts of the state they were so thick
that it was hardly safe to walk about. Not
only were men, women, and children bitten,
but cows, horses, and dogs met death in the
same horrible way.
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The rattlesnake gives a warning before
striking, but the copperhead strikes as quick
as Hghtning, and death soon follows.
A mother would be busy about her house-
work. One of her children would be playing
out near the corn-crib, or the baby would be
crawling across the cabin floor. Suddenly
there was a scream. The mother ran to the
help of her little one, but she was too late.
Many years ago a settler named Isaac
Miller and his good wife Betsy owned a large
farm on Raccoon Creek, not far from what is
now the city of Terre Haute. They had three
children. David was ten years old, Bessie six,
and Sally five.
One morning in early summer Mr. Miller
and his wife were going to town, to sell butter
and eggs. The three children were to be left
at home.
" Now, my boy,'^ said Mrs. Miller, calling
David to her, " stay in the cabin and don't go
out into the woods. Take good care of Bessie
and Sally. Rattlers are thick, and they are
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Ugly this warm weather. You know how your
poor brother Isaac died from a rattler's bite
only last August. We shall be at home before
evening."
^^ Never mind, mother; I will watch the
girls and keep them from getting hurt. I
will stay close to the cabin.''
The father and mother soon rode away.
The children played together for a time, but
it was a hot day, and the woods behind the
cabin looked shady and cool. At the back
of the cabin, under a shed, was a large bin
for storing grain.
'^ I will let the girls play in the bin for a
while," thought David, '' while I go out and
see if the squirrels are eating the corn."
So into the big bin climbed the two little
girls and began to play.
^^ Come back quick, Dave," called Bessie;
" we want you to play with us out in the
woods."
David walked slowly toward the cornfield,
through the shady woods.
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Suddenly in the quiet of the morning he
heard the children screaming at the top of
their voices.
'^ Oh, Dave! Oh, mother, mother! Come
quick! A snake, a snake! ''
Poor David's heart seemed to jump out of
his mouth. He ran quickly to the bin; and
it was well he did; the sight almost froze the
blood in his body. Bessie was sitting at one
corner, while Sally was kneeling in the oppo-
site corner. They were shaking with terror.
A big rattlesnake was coiled up in the
middle of the floor. His eyes had a wicked
gleam, and he was ready to strike,
David was brave-hearted, and did not give
way to fear for a moment.
'^ Don't move for your lives, children! I
will kill that rattler. Don't cry, I will be back
in a minute."
He knew that his mother had left on the
crane in the fireplace a huge pot of hominy,
boiling in lye.
" Pour in more water, David, as fast as it
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boils away," were his mother's last words that
morning, when she was leaving the house.
David rushed into the cabin. He seized a
half-gallon gourd which lay on the hearth,
dipped it full of boiling hominy and lye, and
hurried back to the bin.
The angry snake turned toward him as if to
strike.
David kept cool. He leaned over the side
of the bin and with a steady hand dashed the
fiery stuff on the big snake.
^' Come here quick, children! '^
In another moment he had dragged his
sisters out of the bin.
The ugly snake writhed in agony. It tried
to wriggle its way back through the hole in
the floor, where it had crawled in, but it was
too badly scalded to escape, and soon died.
Late in the afternoon the father and
mother came home.
" You did wrong to leave your sisters and
go out into the woods," said his mother;
" but you were a brave boy to kill that hor-
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rid snake with the hot hominy. Some boys
would never have thought of it/'
^' Yes, you saved the Hves of your dear
Httle sisters, my boy,'' added his father,
" and I am proud of you."
97
XIV
LITTLE JARVIS, THE MIDSHIPMAN
MORE than a hundred years ago the
British warships used to seize and
search American vessels and carry
off American sailors. The officers said they
were deserters from the British navy. War
between the United States and Great Britain
seemed likely to break out at any moment.
To put an end to these and many other
troubles, John Jay, one of the great statesmen
of that time, was sent on a special mission to
England. Mr. Jay succeeded in making
a treaty; but this treaty made many of our
people angry, especially those who wanted the
United States to quarrel with Great Britain
and take sides with France. The French were
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angry at us for making the treaty, and or-
dered our minister to leave France. The
French cruisers then began to seize American
merchant vessels.
General Washington, who had twice been
elected President, now declined to serve a
third term. John Adams, who was chosen to
succeed him, sent statesmen to France to try
to keep peace. Agents of the French govern-
ment told them that the matter would be
made right if they bribed several members of
the French government.
When this base and insulting offer became
known at home, there was an outburst of
anger from one end of the United States to the
other. Everywhere the war fever grew hotter
and hotter.
Such a feeling for war had not been known
since the Battle of Lexington. Patriotic
songs were written and sung. One of these
songs, named '' Hail, Columbia,'^ written by
Joseph Hopkinson, still lives as a national
air.
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'^ Millions for defense, not one cent for
tribute! '^ became the popular war cry.
Men worked without pay in building forts
along the seacoast. The women made flags
and banners. An army was raised, and Wash-
ington was chosen to command it. Congress
voted to furnish three frigates, the United
States, the Constitution, and the Constella-
tion.
In February, 1799, the Constellation, com-
manded by the gallant Thomas Truxton,
captured the great French frigate LTnsur-
gente. This victory caused great rejoicing
in the United States and in England.
The newspapers were full of praise for
Captain Truxton, and a ballad called '' Trux-
ton's Victory " was sung everywhere. The
London merchants sent him a service of silver
plate costing three thousand dollars.
Among the under officers of Captain Trux-
ton was a midshipman named James Jarvis,
but thirteen years old. He was so small that
he was nicknamed Little Jarvis. Like most
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boys of his age, he was full of pranks. Indeed,
if the officer of the deck happened to be out of
sight for a few minutes. Little Jarvis would
be turning a somersault or standing on his
head. This of course was not allowed on the
quarter-deck of a warship.
" Up the masthead, sir! the quarter-deck
is no place for a circus. Mind you that,
young man! '' the officer of the deck would
roar.
With a book in his pocket, the little mid-
shipman climbed to the crosstrees. Although
often punished in this way, he was liked by
everybody, from the bluff Captain Truxton
to the common sailors, for he was a manly
fellow and never did a mean thing.
^^ If you please, sir,^^ he said one day, when
he came down from the crosstrees and saluted
the officer of the deck, " there's a sail off the
port quarter. I called out once before, but
nobody heard me. I think, sir, it is a frigate.''
"Sail, ho!" called the lookout on the
quarter.
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It proved to be a frigate, and a French
frigate too, La Vengeance, one of the great
54-gun ships of the French navy.
When the French frigate got a good look
at the American warship, she tried to escape.
The Constellation had to crowd on sail to
overhaul her. It took nearly an hour for her
to get within fighting distance.
Captain Truxton called his men round him
and made a short speech before they went to
their places. Little Jarvis had never been
in an engagement. He knew well enough that
he belonged in the maintop, but he was so full
of fight that he wanted to be on deck and have
a chance to show what he could do. But he
was ordered aloft with several steady old
topmen, who were told to keep an eye on
him.
It was at midnight, and a lovely moon-
light night, when the ships neared each other
and began a sharp fight. The smoke soon
got so thick that nothing could be seen from
the crosstrees but the flash of the guns. The
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young lad could hear the hoarse orders of the
officers, the cheers of the gunners, and the
cries of the wounded, mingled with the thunder
of the big guns.
Little Jarvis could not do any real fight-
ing, but he waved his sword and cheered as
loudly as anybody.
'^ Hurrah! Give it to them, men! Let
them have it! " he shouted again and again,
but his voice was lost in the roar of battle.
For three hours the battle went on. The
French frigate fought bravely, but could not
stand against the skill of the American gun-
ners. The gallant ship now rolled a helpless
wreck. At the last moment of the battle a
double shot came crashing through the rigging
of the Constellation and struck the main-
mast.
^' Mr. Jarvis,'^ shouted the captain of the
maintopmen, " the. mainmast is a-going! ''
^' Can we hold on a minute longer? '^ asked
Jarvis.
The mast was already swaying.
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'' No, Mr. Jarvis; we can't stay a moment
longer; it is death for us all/'
^' Yes, but I am an officer," was the firm
reply; '' I cannot leave my post. An officer
must die at his post. If the mast goes, I
must go with it.''
In vain the sailors shouted and swore at the
boy. He would not move an inch. The top-
men, without waiting for orders, began to go
down,catching at the rigging as best they could.
Calmly and quietly, with a strange light in
his face, the little midshipman remained at
his post. The next moment the mast came
down with a crash that shook every timber
in the stanch frigate, and with it came the
boy. He was picked up quite dead.
The captain of the topmen approached
Captain Truxton and saluted.
^' He might have saved himself, sir, but he
would not do it. He said he was an officer
and could not leave his post."
The next morning, wrapped in the American
flag, Jarvis's body lay on the quarter-deck.
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The officers and men stood with uncovered
heads and heard the burial-service read. Two
of the sailors made ready to unloose the flag
and slide the body over the rail.
" No/' came the command of Captain
Truxton; ^^ make the flag fast. Mr. Jarvis has
well defended that flag. He shall be buried
in it.''
The next moment the body of the young
midshipman sank quietly into the depths of
the ocean.
'^ Gentlemen," said Captain Truxton, with
husky voice, ^' Little Jarvis has indeed gone
aloft."
The story of this splendid fight was soon
told at home. Congress thanked the officers
and men of the Constellation, and gave
Captain Truxton a gold medal. It also passed
a resolution in honor of Little Jarvis, saying,
" The conduct of James Jarvis, a midshipman
on said frigate, who gloriously preferred certain
death to leaving his post, is deserving of the
highest praise."
105
XV
HELEN Patterson's escape
DANIEL BOONE, the famous pioneer
and first settler of Kentucky, made
up his mind to leave his home and go
to Missouri. He had lost all his land in Ken-
tucky, and now in his old age he wished to
begin life again in the silence of the wild
region west of the Mississippi River.
'^ Why are you going into the woods again,
Dan? " asked his wife.
^' It is getting too thick around here for
me; I want more elbow room. I must get
back into the wilderness, where I can once
more hunt the buffalo and the deer.''
So it came about in the year 1797 that the
old hunter and Indian fighter took his family
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and went over into the deep woods of Missouri.
He built his cabin on the Missouri River, in
the district of St. Charles, about forty miles
west of the then little town of St. Louis.
Missouri was at this time a wild country and
full of bands of prowling savages. These In-
dians liked nothing better than to plunder
and burn the log cabins of the settlers and
steal their cattle and horses.
A few years after Daniel Boone had moved
to his new home, another pioneer, a Mr.
Patterson, also moved from Kentucky and
settled only a few miles from the home of the
old hunter.
At this time Mr. Patterson had a daughter
named Helen, about eighteen years of age.
One day in June all the Patterson family
except Helen were away from home. The
girl sat by the open door, busily spinning. All
of a sudden the lonely cabin was surrounded
by a band of Indians. Helen knew well
enough that it would be useless to cry for
help, or try to escape. One of the redskins,
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who could talk a little English, told her that
if she made an outcry they would kill her.
The Indians ransacked the cabin and made
ready to take away such things as they could
easily carry. In a few minutes the whole
band, with Helen as their captive, set off
afoot to the north through the forest.
'' Oh! " cried the girl; " what will father
and mother think, when they come back and
find that I have been carried away? '^
She had with her a ball of white yarn. As
they went through the forest, she occasionally
broke off bits of yarn and dropped them along
the way. She knew that her father and
friends would follow in pursuit, and that the
yarn would serve as a guide. A savage caught
the girl at it, and raised his tomahawk as if to
kill her. The ball of yarn was taken from her,
and she was closely watched, for fear she
would try again to mark the trail.
During the afternoon the Indians became
uneasy. It was plain to Helen that her
friends were in pursuit and that the savages
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knew it. About sunset two of the Indians
went back to find out the real state of affairs.
The rest of the band had a long and exciting
talk until their comrades returned.
It was now dark. The night was cloudy,
and the rumbling of distant thunder gave
warning of a storm. The savages crossed the
creek they had been following, and led the
girl into the deep woods, about a mile from
the ford. They then tied her wrists together,
pulled her arms above her head, and fastened
them with strips of deerskin to a branch of a
tree.
^^ Indians now go ford, and hide, and kill
white man," muttered the Indian, who could
speak a little broken English.
Helen was now alone in the woods, and tied
so tight that she could not hope to escape.
Her fingers and wrists began to swell, and she
was almost wild with pain and fear. She tried
with all her strength to get free, but it was of
no use. She knew that the savages might
come back at any moment and kill her, and
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she prayed to God to send somebody to set
her free.
The Hghtning Ht up the dark woods, and the
peals of thunder came louder and louder.
Down came the rain in torrents and drenched
the captive girl. Once more she tried to
escape, and this time her hands slipped easily
through the rain-soaked thongs of deerskin.
It took but a moment to untie her feet. Then,
fleet as a deer, she ran toward the ford.
^' If I can only get there in time to warn my
father and my brothers! "
At last, tired out, she sat under a tree in the
pouring rain and eagerly strained her eyes to
catch a glimpse of her rescuers. In a short
time she caught sight of some persons moving
through the forest.
Who could it be? Might it not be some of
the savages coming back for her? Could it
indeed be her father and her brothers?
'^ Father! father! " she cried in a low voice.
'' Helen, dear girl, is that you? " came the
reply.
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In another moment she was held in the arms
of her father, and her two brothers and the
two sturdy sons of Daniel Boone were praising
her for her courage.
They now made their way home in safety
over a new trail. Helenas mother, nearly
frantic at the loss of her daughter, was over-
come with joy at her return.
Ill
XVI
A LAST BLOW FOR SPAIN
IT was a bright July morning, nearly one
hundred years ago. A boy of sixteen,
dressed in the uniform of a captain of the
Spanish army, stood at the outer gate of an
old crumbling fort at Baton Rouge, in what
is now the state of Louisiana. With red
cheeks and flashing eyes the boy was listening
to Sera, an old sergeant.
" Captain Louis,'' continued the old soldier.
" Well, Sergeant Sera.''
" There is sad news from above; the Ameri-
cans are marching rapidly on our village.
They swear they will drive us out."
^' Let the Americans do their work," proudly
answered Louis Grandpre; " we must do our
duty. Who leads these Americans? "
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^^ Captain Thomas leads the riflemen. Pas-
son, whose hfe your father once saved, leads
the dragoons. It is said there are one hundred
and forty of them in all. Pray, Captain
Louis, what can we do? "
'^ Do? '^ cried the young captain. '' We
can hold the fort for Spain and for King Fer-
dinand. It is what we are here for. A soldier
of Spain must do his duty; if it comes to the
worst, he must die."
The old sergeant shuffled off to his quarters,
talking to himself. He had watched over his
young master from the time he was a child.
He rejoiced at the boy's pluck and courage.
Yet the old veteran knew too well it was all
in vain.
There was trouble and unrest all through
this section of Louisiana, which was not yet
free from the power of Spain. The vast
region beyond the Mississippi, known as
Louisiana, had been taken by France a hun-
dred years before the close of the American
Revolution. Eighty years later France had
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ceded it to Spain, at the time she gave up
Canada and the Ohio valley to England. In
1800 the great Napoleon forced Spain to give
it back to France. Thus the mouth of the
great Mississippi River was closed to American
trade.
The people of the West had now no outlet
for their goods. They said they would march
down the river and take New Orleans by
force.
At this time Napoleon had great need of
money, and sold us this whole territory for
fifteen million dollars. It was a great bargain
for our nation. This region contained more
square miles than all the original thirteen
colonies combined.
Of course Spain made loud objection to the
trade. But she knew well enough that she
could not hold this vast region against the
wishes of our great republic. And France be-
lieved that this bargain must end forever
Spanish rule on the American continent.
At the time of our story, only a strip of
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country not much larger than the Httle state
of Delaware was left in the hands of Spain.
The American pioneers were bound to have
this too. The only thing in the way was an
old tumble-down fort at Baton Rouge, from
which still floated the proud flag of Spain.
Louis Grandpr^ was now in command of
this fort. He was no common boy. He had
been born and reared amid all the dangers and
hardships of frontier life. His father, a brave
Spanish soldier, had taught him that to obey
was the first duty of a soldier. On his death-
bed his parting words were, '^ Loyalty to
king, to country, and to flag."
What could the young Spaniard do? He
had only a few crippled, worn-out veterans;
and the fort had not been repaired for a dozen
years.
He rode into the square of the little town of
Baton Rouge and stood beneath the folds of
the Spanish banner.
^' Long live King Ferdinand! Rally to the
help of the King's fort! I am here to defend it
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against all enemies of the King. If you are
true and loyal sons of Spain, follow me."
He rode back with the banner floating over
his head, and the fife and drum playing a
martial air.
Within the gates of the fort he drew up his
sorry-looking army of less than one hundred
men. In a few earnest words he bade them
stand firm for the King.
^^ I am only a boy," he added, ^^ but I will
face my duty proudly and remain steadfast
to the end. Here will I make one last stand
for the honor of Spain. Here I will fight one
last battle for the glory of my country and my
flag/'
So it came about that on this hot July day
a hundred poor, old, worn-out Spanish vet-
erans stood drawn up in battle array within
the old fort. Some of them even began to
boast of what they would do again.
They had not long to wait. There was a
clatter of hoofs through the deserted village,
and the call of the bugle, demanding a parley.
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Old Sergeant Sera, stiff in his joints and
lame from many wounds, swung open the big
gate.
Passon, with his mounted riflemen, dashed
through and toppled over the old sergeant.
Young Captain Grandpre, sword in hand,
faced the dragoon.
^^ Sir, what means this insult, this hostile
entrance into a fort of the King of Spain? "
'^ Well, well! " laughed Passon, as he reined
in his horse; '' are you the captain here?
Well, my boy, we want your fort; and we
must have it.^^
" This post of Baton Rouge belongs to
His Majesty, King Ferdinand of Spain," was
the proud reply. " I am in command. I am
here to defend it with my life. Leave this
fort at once, or I shall order my men to fire
upon you.'^
^^ Well, what a fine young chap we have
here," cried Passon, while his men shouted
with laughter. '^ Indeed, you are a fierce
young hotspur. We have taken a fancy to
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this fort of yours, and we mean to have
iV
Upon this the bold captain of the dragoons
reached down from his horse as if to seize
young Louis as a prisoner.
" Ho, there! '^ shouted Captain Louis to his
men. ^' Drive these traitors out! Ready!
Fire! ''
With drawn sword the young captain
turned toward his veterans to urge them to
fight.
Not a man was there. Such was their
dread of the Americans that they had made
haste to escape into the blockhouse.
^' Cowards! cowards! all of you. Will you
run from a lot of Yankee traitors? Come out
and fight! '' and his young face was crimson
with shame.
'' Come, my boy," the dragoon urged, " I
don't want to hurt you, but we must have this
fort."
'^ Never! It is my duty to hold this fort,
and hold it I will."
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'^ We are wasting time/' grumbled Passon,
in anger. " Charge, boys! Charge the block-
house! ''
Before the horsemen could reach the old
tumble-down building, the young Spaniard
had sprung to the gate and closed and barred
it. In another moment he was rallying his
men.
" Follow me and drive these traitors out! "
Sword in hand, young Grandpre went forth
to meet the foe. But he went alone.
At that moment Captain Thomas, with
eighty riflemen, dashed through the southern
gate of the fort. The dragoons jumped from
their horses. They pounded away at the
rickety gate of the blockhouse. Down it fell
with a crash, and the Americans rushed
in.
Bracing himself against the wall, with
sword flashing in the sunlight. Captain
Louis Grandpre stood facing his foe, one
against a hundred, and he a boy.
" Back, every one of you! Back, on your
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lives! Ho! there in the blockhouse! Fire on
the traitors! ^'
Clear and loud rang out the fire of the
riflemen. With wild clatter, the dragoons
charged up to the door. There, fighting for
the fort which he deemed it his duty to de-
fend, Grandpre fell, his king's name on his
lips, '' Long Hve King Ferdinand! "
Thus died Captain Louis Grandpre. Brave
and faithful to his trust, the boy-soldier
struck the last blow for Spain in the land
where she had won and lost an empire.
120
XVII
THE CHARGE OF THE HOUNDS
DURING our second war with Great
Britain, the War of 1812, the pioneers
in the Southwest suffered much from
the red men. The British suppHed the Creek
Indians with guns, and paid them in gold for
scalps.
Alabama endured all the horrors of frontier
life. In August, 1813, the famous Creek
chief Red Eagle, with a thousand warriors,
attacked Fort Mimms, the largest and strong-
est fort of this region. It was one of the most
desperate battles known in Indian warfare.
The fort was burned to the ground, and about
five hundred men, women, and children were
killed.
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This was indeed sad news to the settlers in
the region round the Alabama and Tombigbee
rivers. It meant that the " redsticks," as
the Creek warriors were called, were on the
warpath. If the settlers would save them-
selves and their wives and children from a
cruel death by the savages, they must get
what food they could, leave their property to
be carried away or destroyed, and seek
shelter in the nearest stockade.
Such was the terror caused by the terrible
fight at Fort Mimms that the settlers in what
is now Clarke County took their families as
quickly as they could to a little fort called
Burnt Corn.
A little way from the fort lived two famihes
consisting of twenty people. They did not
believe there were any Creeks near, and de-
cided to stay in their homes. That very
night the redskins set fire to the cabins, and
killed all but five of the inmates. These es-
caped to the stockade and told the sad news.
The next day the settlers went out from the
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fort to bring the bodies of their friends and
bury them. They beheved the Indians had
left the region. So sure were they of this that
they did not take their guns with them, and
even left the gate of the stockade open.
A large party of Indians was watching
them all the time. Crawling like snakes
through the underbrush, they came within a
hundred yards of the stockade, while the
settlers stood weeping round the graves of
their friends.
Suddenly a savage war cry rent the air.
The crafty chief Francis at the head of his
warriors made a rush for the open gate of the
fort.
The pioneers ran with all speed. They
reached the stockade and shut the gate just
in time. But to their horror their women and
children were shut outside, and the Indians
were between them and the fort.
It was a moment of terror.
Now at the fort there was a young fellow
named Isaac Haden. Young as he was, he
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was cool and fearless, and already well known
as an Indian fighter. On this particular day
he had been out in search of stray cattle, and
just as things were at their worst he rode up
with his pack of hounds at his heels. Quick as
a flash he saw the peril of his friends. He
knew that he must help them at any risk.
'^ Here, Tiger! Here, Nero! Here, Caesar! "
he cried to his oldest dogs.
In another moment, followed by the whole
pack of savage animals, he charged on the
redskins. Some of the Indians were seized
by the dogs and brought to the ground. The
others were only too glad to escape by running
into the woods.
In the meanwhile the women and children
had time to reach the stockade, and the great
oak gate was shut. Isaac was left outside.
The savages quickly rallied when they saw
the plight of the young pioneer.
'' I have at least saved the women and
children,'' muttered Isaac, when he heard the
war cry of the Creeks. ^' I suppose there is
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THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
no help for me; but I don't mean to die
without making one more charge on those
redskins/'
He blew a blast on his hunting-horn, to call
his dogs around him. Digging his spurs into
the flanks of his horse, he again charged the
savages. He broke through them, but his
good horse fell dead from an Indian's bullet.
He jumped from the saddle and ran with all
his might toward the stockade.
With wild cries the Creeks were after him.
The rifle bullets whizzed by his head. Several
bullets passed through his clothing without
his receiving even a scratch. The redskins
were now close at his heels, but the brave
young fellow reached the great oak gate,
which the settlers were holding a little way
open for him. In another moment he was
safe inside, and the gate was shut in the faces
of the bloodthirsty savages.
125
XVIII
THE DEFENSE OF FORT STEPHENSON
GENERAL HARRISON, the famous
Indian fighter who became President
of the United States, was in command
of the army in the Northwest. Tecumseh, one
of the greatest Indians that ever Hved, was
planning to drive all the settlers out of the
Ohio region. He said that the white men had
cheated the Indians out of their land, and he
was eager for revenge. The Indians began
war, but in the fall of 1811 they were defeated
by General Harrison in the Battle of Tippe-
canoe, in Indiana.
When the War of 1812 began, Tecumseh
took sides with the British. He thought his
time for revenge had come.
At this period there were three forts near
126
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
the shore of Lake Erie. Fort Meigs on the
Maumee River was the most important of the
three.
In the summer of 1813, General Proctor
with a force of British regulars and two or
three thousand Indians crossed Lake Erie
to capture Fort Meigs.
After a short time he decided to withdraw.
He put his regulars on board the gunboats,
and ordered the Indians to follow him along
the shore; for he now meant to attack another
of the three forts, a little stockade known as
Fort Stephenson.
Fort Stephenson was an old stockade built
round an Indian trader's house on the San-
dusky River, about twenty miles from Lake
Erie. It is now the httle city of Fremont.
The fort, enclosing about an acre of ground,
was built of oak logs set in the ground and
sharpened at the top. At the corners of the
fort were little blockhouses. Outside the fort
was a ditch about eight feet deep and five or
six feet wide.
127
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
Now this fort was an important post. Its
loss would leave the way open for an attack
on the storehouses up the river, in which were
kept the supplies for all the American forces
in the Northwest.
When General Harrison learned what the
British planned to do, he sent a scout named
William Connor to carry a letter to Major
Croghan.
^^ Destroy the fort and the stores and re-
treat if you can do so in season," were the
orders.
The woods were full of Tecumseh^s painted
warriors. More than once the scout was
forced to seek the shelter of the bushes tg
escape the prowling savages. It is no wonder
that he lost his way and was a long time in
reaching the fort.
^^ I must see Major Croghan," said Connor,
when admitted to the stockade.
'' I'm your man," repHed a young officer;
^' what do you want? "
^^ No, young fellow, you can't fool me,"
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THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
objected the scout, looking at the smooth-
faced young man. '' You are nothing but a
boy, and I want to see the commander. I
have a letter for him from General Harri-
son."
" I^m Major Croghan," insisted the young
commander. " I am twenty-one years old;
old enough to command this fort and old
enough to put you in irons if you don't hand
over that letter in two minutes.''
" This beats me," muttered the old scout;
and without another word he gave the letter
to the young officer.
" Wait here," said Major Croghan; and
he went out to talk with his officers, who were
even younger than himself.
In a few minutes he returned with a letter
to General Harrison. It ran as follows: '^ It
is too late to retreat. We have made up our
minds to defend this place, and by heaven we
will."
This letter from so young a man was too
much for an old soldier like General Harrison.
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THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
He at once called the young officer to head-
quarters to explain matters.
Now Major Croghan was a great favorite
with the old Indian fighter. His family was
famous in American history. He was the
nephew of the celebrated George Rogers
Clarke, who saved for us the three great
states of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. His
father had fought through the Revolution.
After graduating from college, at the age of
eighteen, young Croghan went into the army
and soon proved his courage. For bravery at
the siege of Fort Meigs, he was made a major
in the regular army, when he was only twenty
years old.
The young major told General Harrison it
was not safe to retreat from Fort Stephenson
with so large a force; for the woods were
full of savages. He declared he had sent him
the note with the hope that it would faU into
the hands of the Indians. He also insisted he
could hold the fort or make the British pay
dearly for it.
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THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
Harrison agreed and hurried him back to
his command.
The garrison at Fort Stephenson worked all
day and all night to get ready for the at-
tack.
About noon the next day, which was the
first day of August, large numbers of Indians
were seen skulking near. We are told that
one redskin, bolder than the rest, climbed to
the top of an elm tree which overlooked the
stockade. He was shot dead by a Kentucky
rifleman. Several others did the same thing
and met with the same fate.
About four o'clock in the afternoon. General
Proctor, the British commander, sailed up the
Sandusky River with his gunboats, landed
about five hundred soldiers, and planted his
cannon. At the same time the Indians
showed themselves all about in the woods.
General Proctor now sent Colonel ElHott to
the fort.
Lieutenant Shipp, the youngest officer in
the stockade, went out to meet him.
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THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
^^ I am sent to demand the surrender of your
fort/^ began the British officer.
" We shall defend it to the last moment/'
^' Look at these four hundred veteran
soldiers and seven hundred Indians. We are
sure to take the place. The Indians will kill
all of you. Tell your commander to surrender
and save the shedding of blood.''
^' When you take the fort there will be
nobody left to kill; they will all be dead."
'^ You're a fine young man, too fine to be
tomahawked and scalped by the savages/'
continued the British officer; " don't be
stubborn."
At this moment an Indian sprang out of the
bushes and tried to snatch the lieutenant's
sword; but Shipp, not the least afraid, drew
the weapon and made as if to kill the Indian.
Colonel Elliott now begged the young officer
to go back with all speed if he would save his
life, since he could not control the Indians.
All this time Major Croghan was watching
the scene. He saw the insult to his messenger.
132
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
"Come in, Shipp! " he shouted. "We'll
blow them all to pieces. '^
The battle now began in real earnest. The
six cannon on the shore and the gunboats
opened fire on the little stockade.
In the fort were one hundred and sixty-two
men and one cannon, an old six-pounder.
" Put Queen Bess on the blockhouse on
the north side/' ordered Major Croghan.
" Hide her from the British. Load her to
the muzzle and point her so that she will
sweep the ditch."
That night and the next day until about
four o'clock in the afternoon the British can-
non and the regulars pounded away at the
little fort.
" Keep cool, boys/' said Major Croghan,
calmly. " Shoot to kill. We must beat them
or die."
The Indians did not like this kind of fight-
ing. There was no chance to skulk behind
trees. They had taken no scalps. If they
showed themselves, the sure aim of the Ken-
133
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
tucky riflemen brought them down. They
grew restless. They wanted to get into the
fort and begin the bloody work.
A thunderstorm was rising, and by four
o'clock it was almost as dark as night.
General Proctor decided to storm the fort
on the northwest corner and make an attack
on the south side at the same time. Under
cover of the smoke the regulars marched
forward.
" Cut down the pickets ! Show the Yankees
no quarter! " shouted Colonel Short, leaping
into the ditch.
A deadly rifle fire flashed from every port-
hole. The redcoats were checked and thrown
into confusion. They quickly rallied. Again
the men leaped to the front to cut down the
oak logs.
The coloneFs voice again rang out.
" Cut away the pickets, my boys! No
quarter for the Yankees."
These were his last words. He fell headlong,
pierced by a bullet.
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THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
All this time good Queen Bess, loaded to
the muzzle with spikes and slugs, was hid
from the sight of the enemy. The port now
flew open. The old six-pounder spoke with
terrible effect. Grapeshot and slugs raked the
ditch and filled it with the struggling soldiers.
More than a hundred men lay wounded or dead.
The British did not rally. Without 9,
leader, they turned and fled to the woods,
followed by the deadly fire of the Kentucky
sharpshooters.
The two hundred regulars storming the
fort on the south side were at the mercy of the
riflemen. They were soon forced to seek
shelter.
The garrison had but one man killed and
less than a dozen wounded. Of the British
about one hundred and twenty men were
killed or wounded. The savages had kept
themselves out of the way, in a ravine near
the fort. The whole attack was borne by the
British regulars, who acted most bravely.
After dark General , Prqctor stole on board
THE AMERICAN HISTORY STORY - BOOK
his gunboat, leaving behind him his stores,
guns, and clothing. The next morning the
redcoats were far out on Lake Erie. Not an
Indian was to be seen.
The Httle band of fighters had saved the
region from British conquest. Never again
did a British soldier set foot in Ohio or Michi-
gan except as a prisoner.
Major Croghan lived for forty years after
this gallant fight. He made good the promise
of his youth. At twenty-seven he was pro-
moted to be a colonel. After the war he filled
many offices of trust and honor in the South.
He was the youngest man, it is said, ever to
receive the gold medal of honor awarded by
Congress for heroic exploits. General Harri-
son^s report contained the following:
" It will not be the least of General Proctor's
mortifications to find that he has been baffled
by a young man who has just passed his
twenty-first birthday. He is, however, the
hero, worthy of his gallant uncle, General
George Rogers Clarke."
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